BTT~T5  TS532  1877 
Shedd,  William  Greenough 
Thayer,  1820-1894. 
Theological  essays 


J 


o 


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in  2019  with  funding  from 
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BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


A  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAN  DOCTRINE. 

By  William  G.  T.  Shedd,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Biblical  Litera¬ 
ture  in  Union  Theological  Seminary,  New  York.  Two  vols. 
crown  8vo.  A  new  and  cheaper  edition,  cloth,  $5.00. 

A  TREATISE  ON  HOMILETICS  AND  PASTORAL  THEOLOGY. 

By  author  of  “  History  of  Christian  Doctrine.”  One  vol. 
crown  8vo,  cloth,  neiu  and  cheaper  edition ,  §2.50. 

SERMONS  TO  THE  NATURAL  MAN. 

One  vol.  crown  8vo.  Price,  $2.50. 

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***  Sent  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price ,  by  the  Publishers, 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG  &  CO., 

743  and  745  Broadway,  New  York. 


THEOLOGICAL  ESSAYS 


BY 

WILLIAM  G.  T.  SHEDD,  D.D., 

ROOSEVELT  PROFESSOR  OF  SYSTEMATIC  THEOLOGY  IN  UNION 
THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,  NEW  YORK. 


NEW  YORK: 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG  &  COMPANY. 

1877. 


Copyright  by 
WILLIAM  G.  T.  SHEDD, 
1S77. 


Trow’s 

Printing  and  Bookbinding  Co., 
205-213  East  \ith  St 

NEW  YORK. 


PREFACE. 


The  substance  of  this  volume  has  been  before  the  public  some 
twenty  years  or  more.  The  opinions  expressed  in  it  relate  to 
some  of  the  most  important  and  difficult  themes  in  theology 
and  theological  philosophy.  The  editions  through  which  it  has 
passed  prove  that  there  is  a  considerable  circle  of  readers  who 
are  interested  in  such  problems,  and  in  that  particular  mode  of 
presentation  in  which  they  here  appear.  The  author  has  seized 
the  opportunity  afforded  by  a  new  publication  to  revise  and 
enlarge  these  papers.  Xo  change,  however,  has  been  made  in 
the  dogmatic  positions.  The  reader  will  find  the  historical 
Calvinism  defended  in  the  essays  upon  Original  Sin  and  Atone¬ 
ment  ;  vet  with  an  endeavor  to  ground  these  cardinal  themes  in 
the  absolute  principles  of  reason,  as  seen  in  the  nature  of  both 
God  and  Man.  Sin  must  take  its  origin,  from  first  to  last,  in 
the  finite  will,  and  atonement  is  the  necessary  requirement  of 
eternal  justice.  In  these  two  essays,  the  writer,  if  he  has  done 
nothing  else,  has  at  least  shown  the  sincerity  of  his  belief  that 
theology  and  philosophy  have  no  inherent  contradiction,  and 
that  the  more  exact  and  strict  type  of  theology  is  the  one  of  all 
which  is  most  defensible  at  the  bar  of  reason  and  logic  ;  agree- 
ing  with  Selden,  that  cc  without  school  divinity  a  divine  knows 
nothing  logically,  nor  will  be  able  to  satisfy  a  rational  man  out 
of  the  pulpit.” 


vi 


PREFACE. 


The  essay  upon  Evolution  was  first  published  in  1856,  under 
the  title  of  C£  The  Philosophy  of  History.”  This  has  been  re¬ 
cast,  amplified,  and  carefully  revised.  The  recent  misuse  to 
which  the  doctrine  of  evolution  has  been  put  by  the  sceptical 
physics  of  the  day,  has  imparted  a  fresh  interest  to  the  subject. 
The  author,  in  his  discussion,  discriminates  the  idea  of  evolution 
from  that  of  creation,  and  from  that  of  improvement  or  normal 
progress — with  both  of  which  it  has  been  identified  and  con¬ 
founded — and  having  evinced  that  an  evolution  is  never  crea¬ 
tive,  or  originant  from  nothing,  shows  the  applicability  of  the 
term  either  to  an  improvement  or  to  a  deterioration,  either  to  a 
development  of  good  or  to  a  development  of  evil.  In  this  way, 
a  doctrine  which  of  late  has  been  violently  forced  into  the  ser¬ 
vice  of  pantheism  is  seen  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  first  truths 
of  theism. 

The  remaining  essays  in  the  volume  are  somewhat  more  popu¬ 
lar  in  their  tone  and  contents.  That  upon  the  influence  of 
Theological  Studies,  the  author  is  glad  to  know,  has  given  to 
some  minds  an  impulse  towards  the  ministry,  and  the  service  of 
the  Church.  The  article  upon  the  influence  of  Symbols,  though 
in  its  form  having  a  prevailing  reference  to  a  particular  denom¬ 
ination,  owing  to  the  circumstances  of  its  preparation,  has  a 
universal  bearing,  particularly  at  a  time  when  the  question 
respecting  the  value  and  need  of  creed  statements  is  being 
raised.  The  subject  of  Clerical  Education  is  examined,  first,  in 
reference  to  the  need  of  its  being  scientific  and  professional,  in 
distinction  from  lay  education  ;  and  secondly,  in  reference  to  the 
duty  incumbent  upon  the  Church  to  facilitate  it  by  institutions 
and  endowments. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  contents  of  this  volume  are 
theological,  either  theoretically  or  practically.  The  writer  for 


PREFACE. 


VI 1 


more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  has  been  engaged  in  theologi¬ 
cal  instruction,  which  has  overflowed,  more  or  less,  into  author¬ 
ship.  An  author  in  the  more  abstruse  departments  of  litera¬ 
ture  gradually  makes  his  own  circle  of  readers,  as  a  logical 
preacher  gradually  forms  his  own  congregation.  Both  have  the 
advantage  of  homogeneousness  in  readers  and  hearers,  and 
escape  the  evils  of  a  miscellaneous  concourse.  To  that  circle 
upon  whom  from  experience  he  finds  he  may  rely,  and  whose 
favorable  verdict  is  his  chief  concern,  the  writer  would  ex¬ 
press  his  hearty  thanks  for  their  past  interest  in  his  thoughts, 
and  the  hope  that  he  may  ever  continue  to  retain  it. 

Union  Theological  Semin abt, 

Kew  Yoke,  Xov.  1,  1877. 


* 


*  \ 


\  ’ 


■  ,  -  * 

- 


V 


CONTENTS 


PAGB 


The  method,  and  influence,  of  Theological  Studies.  .  7 

The  nature,  and  influence,  of  the  Historic  Spirit.  ...  53 

The  idea  of  Evolution  defined,  and  applied  to  His¬ 
tory . 121 

The  doctrine  of  Original  Sin .  211 

The  Atonement  a  satisfaction  for  the  ethical  nature 

of  both  God  and  Man .  265 

Symbols  and  Congregationalism .  319 

Clerical  Education.  . . .  355 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 
THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


A  DISCOURSE  DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE  LITERARY  SOCIETIES  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF  VERMONT,  AUGUST  5,  1845. 


Gentlemen  of  the  Societies  : 

The  subject  to  which  I  invite  your  attention  is  : 
The  method ,  and  influence ,  of  Theological  Studies. 

Theology  more  than  any  other  science,  suffers  from 
false  views  of  its  scope  and  contents.  In  the  opinion  of 
many,  it  is  supposed  to  have  little  or  no  connection  with 
other  sciences,  and  to  exert  but  a  very  small  and  unim¬ 
portant  influence  upon  other  departments  of  human 
knowledge.  Its  contents  are  supposed  to  be  summed 
up  in  the  truths  of  natural  theology.  It  is  thought  to  be 
that  isolated  and  lifeless  science  which  looks  merely  at 
the  natural  attributes  of  God  and  man,  and  which  con¬ 
sequently  brings  to  view  no  higher  relations,  and  no 
deeper  knowledge,  than  those  of  mere  nature.  Of  course, 
for  such  minds  theology  must  be  a  very  unimportant  and 
simple  science,  treating  merely  of  those  superficial  qual» 
ities  which  do  not  reach  into  the  depths  of  God  and  man, 
and  of  those  merely  secondary  and  temporal  relation- 


8 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


ships  that  rest  upon  them.  Said  a  member  of  the  Direc¬ 
tory  appointed  by  France  during  its  Revolution  to  re¬ 
model  Christianity,  “  I  want  a  simple  religion  :  one  with 
a  couple  of  doctrines.”  Theology,  as  understood  by 
many,  is  the  science  of  the  French  Director’s  religion. 

But  such  is  not  the  scope,  or  the  character,  of  that 
u  sacred  and  inspired  divinity  ”  which  Lord  Bacon  as¬ 
serts  to  be  “  the  sabbath  and  port  of  men’s  labors  and 
peregrinations.”  Nature  ;  the  natural  attributes  of  God 
and  man,  and  the  natural  laws  and  relations  of  creation 
forms  but  a  minor  and  insignificant  part  of  its  subject 
matter.  This  lower  region  of  being  is  but  the  suburb. 
The  metropolis  and  royal  seat  of  theology  is  the  super¬ 
natural  world ;  a  region  full  of  moral  being,  sustaining 
most  profound  and  solemn  relations  to  reason  and  law. 

Before  proceeding,  then,  to  speak  of  the  true  method 
of  theological  study,  and  of  its  great  and  noble  influ¬ 
ences,  it  will  be  needful  to  discuss  more  at  large  the 
real  spirit  and  character  of  the  science  itself ;  and  for  this 
•  somewhat  abstract  discussion,  I  bespeak  your  forbearing 
and  patient  attention.  It  is  needed  in  order  to  a  clear  ap¬ 
prehension  of  the  enlarging  and  elevating  influence  of  the 
science.  Far  am  I  from  recommending  to  the  educated 
man,  the  pursuit  of  those  seemingly  religious  studies 
which  never  carry  him  out  of  the  sphere  of  natural  the¬ 
ology,  and  which  cannot  awaken  enthusiasm  of  feeling 
or  produce  profundity  of  thought.  I  am  pleading  for 
those  really  theological  studies,  which  by  means  of  their 
supernatural  element  and  character  give  nerve  to  the  in¬ 
tellect  and  life  to  the  heart. 

Theology  is  the  science  of  the  supernatural.  That  we 
may  obtain  a  clear  knowledge  of  its  essential  character, 
let  us  for  a  moment  consider  the  distinction  between  the 
natural  and  the  supernatural. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


9 


That  which  makes  these  different  from  each  other  in 
kind,  so  that  the  line  which  divides  them  divides  the 
universe  into  two  distinct  worlds,  is  this  fact:  —  the 
natural  has  no  religious  element  in  it,  while  the  super¬ 
natural  is  entirely  composed  of  this  element.  There  is 
and  there  can  be  in  mere  nature  nothing  religious. 
There  is  and  there  can  be  in  that  which  is  supernatural 
nothing  that  is  not  religious.*  When  we  have  said  this, 
we  have  given  the  essential  difference  between  the  nat¬ 
ural  and  supernatural. 

The  common  notion  that  by  the  natural  is  meant  the 
material  and  visible,  and  by  the  supernatural,  the  imma¬ 
terial  and  invisible,  is  false.  Nature  may  be  as  invisible 
and  immaterial  as  is  spirit.  Who  ever  saw  or  ever  will 
see  the  natural  forces  of  gravitation,  electricity,  and  mag¬ 
netism  ?  Who  ever  saw  or  ever  will  see  that  natural 
principle  of  life,  of  which  all  outward  and  material  na¬ 
ture  is  but  the  manifestation  ?  Back  of  this  world  of 
nature  which  we  apprehend  by  the  five  senses,  there  is 
an  invisible  world  which  is  nature  still ;  which  is  not  su¬ 
pernatural;  neither  the  object  of  supernatural  science  nor 
of  supernatural  interests,  because  there  is  no  moral  ele¬ 
ment  in  it.  When  we  have  stripped  the  world  of  its 
materiality,  and  have  dissolved  all  that  is  visible  into 
unseen  forces  and  vital  laws,  we  have  not  reached  any 
higher  region  than  that  of  nature.  We  have  not  yet 
entered  the  supernatural  and  religious  world.  He  who 
worships  the  vital  principle  or  adores  the  force  of  gravity; 
nay,  he  who  has  no  higher  emotions  than  those  of  the 
natural  religionist,  which  are  called  forth  by  the  beauty 


*  Religion  is  from  religo:  —  natural  laws  have  no  religious,  or  binding 
force,  and  in  the  sphere  of  nature  there  can  be  no  such  things  as  duty,  guilt 
or  praiseworthiness. 


10  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

and  glory  of  visible  nature,  or  by  the  cloudy  and  mystic 
awfulness  of  invisible  nature,  is  as  really  an  idolater,  a? 
is  the  most  debased  heathen  who  bows  down  before  a 
visible  and  material  idol.  And  that  system  of  thought 
which  never  rises  into  the  world  of  moral  or  supernatural 
reality,  is  as  truly  material  (whatever  may  be  its  profes¬ 
sions  to  the  contrary),  as  is  the  most  open  and  avowed 
materialism. 

It  seems  like  stating  truisms  to  make  such  statements  as 
these  ;  and  yet  some  of  the  most  seductive  and  far-reach¬ 
ing  errors  in  philosophy  and  theology  have  arisen  from 
the  non-recognition,  or  the  denial,  of  any  thing  highei 
than  invisible  nature.  Ideal  Pantheism,  a  system  receiv¬ 
ed  by  minds  of  a  really  profound  order,  and  which  boasts 
of  its  spirituality,  results  from  the  error  in  question. 
Hence,  although  it  admits  of,  and  produces,  a  mystic 
adoration  and  a  vague  dreamy  awe,  it  is  utterly  incom¬ 
patible  with  really  spiritual  feeling  and  truly  moral 
emotion. 

But  the  reality,  and  nature,  of  the  distinction  between 
the  natural  and  supernatural,  is  still  more  clearly  seen 
by  a  contemplation  of  the  Divine  attributes ;  partly  be¬ 
cause  at  this  point  the  distinction  itself  is  more  marked 
and  plain,  and  partly  because  from  this  point  the  vital 
errors  in  theological  and  philosophical  science  take  their 
start. 

Although,  at  first  sight,  it  may  appear  bold  and  irrev¬ 
erent,  yet  a  thorough  investigation  will  show  that  it  re¬ 
sults  in  the  only  true  fear  and  adoration  of  God,  to  say 
that  his  natural  attributes  considered  by  themselves  are 
of  no  importance  at  all  for  a  moral  being.  Taken  by 
themselves,  they  have  no  religious  quality,  and  therefore, 
as  such,  cannot  be  the  ground  of  theological  science  or 
religious  feeling.  Considered  apart  from  his  supernatural 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


11 


attributes,  what  meaning  have  the  omnipresence,  the 
omnipotence,  and  even  the  adaptive  intelligence,  of  the 
Deity,  for  me  as  a  religious  being  ?  Of  what  interest,  is 
the  possessor  of  these  merely  natural  attributes,  to  me  as 
a  rational  and  moral  being,  until  I  know  the  supernat¬ 
ural  character  and  person  which  reside  in  them,  and  make 
them  the  vehicle  of  their  operations  ?  I  may  see  the  ex¬ 
hibitions  of  Infinite  Power  in  the  heavens  above  me,  and 
on  the  earth  around  me ;  I  may  detect  the  work  of  an 
Infinite  Intelligence  in  this  world  of  matchless  design 
and  order ;  but  what  are  these  isolated  qualities  to  me  as 
one  who  possesses  moral  reason  and  sustains  supernatural 
relations  ?  Let  that  Infinite  Power  thunder  and  flash 
through  the  skies,  and  let  that  Infinite  Intelligence  clothe 
the  world  in  beauty  and  glory;  these  merely  natural 
attributes  are  nothing  to  me,  in  a  religious  point  of  view, 
until  I  know  who  wields  them,  and  what  supernatural  and 
holy  attributes  make  them  their  bearer  and  agent.  Then 
will  I  fear  spiritually,  and  then  will  I  adore  morally. 

This  fundamental  distinction  between  the  natural  and 
the  supernatural  is  of  vital  importance  to  theological  sci¬ 
ence.  If  not  clearly  seen  and  rigidly  recognized  in  the¬ 
ology,  this  science  comes  to  be  nothing  more  than  an 
investigation  of  the  natural  attributes  of  the  Deity,  and 
treats  merely  of  those  relations  of  man  to  the  Creator, 
which  the  vilest  reptile  that  crawls  has  in  common  with 
him.  For  if  we  set  aside  the  supernatural  attributes  of 
God,  man  sustains  only  the  same  relations  to  him  that 
the  brute  does.  He,  in  common  with  the  brutes  that  per¬ 
ish,  is  the  creature  of  the  Divine  Power,  and  in  common 
with  them  is  sustained  by  the  Divine  Intelligence ;  that 
attribute  which  causes  merely  natural  wants  to  be  sup¬ 
plied  by  their  correlative  objects.  The  mere  superven¬ 
tion  of  consciousness  will  make  no  difference  between 


12  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

man  and  brute  in  relation  to  the  Deity,  unless  conscious¬ 
ness  bring  with  it  the  knowledge  of  his  higher  supernat - 
ural  attributes.  If  we  set  aside  his  relations  to  the  Wis¬ 
dom,  Holiness,  Justice  and  Mercy  of  God,  we  find  man 
on  a  level  with  brute  existence  in  all  respects.  He 
comes  into  being,  reaches  his  maturity,  declines,  and  dies, 
as  they  do,  by  the  operation  of  the  natural  attributes  of 
the  Creator  manifesting  themselves  in  natural  laws,  and 
this  is  all  that  can  be  said  of  him  in  reference  to  his 
Maker. 

The  more  we  contemplate  the  Divine  Being,  the  more 
clearly  do  we  see  that  his  supernatural  are  his  constitut- 
/ng  attributes ;  the  very  Divinity  of  the  Deity.  If  they 
are  denied,  the  Creator  is  immediately  confounded  with 
the  creature ;  for  his  natural  attributes,  without  his  moral 
ones,  become  the  soul  of  the  world,  its  blind,  though 
unerring  principle  of  life.  Or  if  they  are  misapprehend¬ 
ed,  and  the  difference  between  the  two  classes  is  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  only  one  of  degree,  and  consequently  that 
there  is  no  essential  distinction  between  nature  and 
spirit,  fatal  errors  will  inevitably  be  the  result.  There 
will  be  no  sharply  and  firmly  drawn  line  between  the 
natural  and  spiritual  worlds,  natural  and  spiritual  laws, 
and  natural  and  spiritual  relationships.  A  mere  natural¬ 
ism  must  run  through  theology,  philosophy,  science,  lit¬ 
erature  and  art,  depriving  each  and  all  of  them  of  their 
noblest  characteristics. 

The  reality  and  importance  of  this  distinction  be^ 
tween  the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  are  to  be  seen 
in  a  less  abstract  and  more  interesting  manner  in  the  ac¬ 
tual  life  of  men.  Man  is  by  creation  a  religious  being  ; 
and  even  in  his  religion  we  discover  his  proneness  to 
deny  or  misapprehend  the  distinction  in  question.  The 
religion  of  the  natural  man  is  strictly  natural  religion.  It 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


13 


refers  solely  to  the  natural  attributes  of  God.  There  is 
no  man  who  is  not  pleasurably  affected  by  the  manifes¬ 
tation  of  the  Power  and  intelligent  Design  of  the  Deity, 
as  seen  in  the  natural  world ;  and  all  men  who  have  not 
been  taught  experimentally,  that  there  are  higher  attri¬ 
butes  than  these,  and  a  higher  religion  than  this,  are  con¬ 
tent  with  such  religion.  “  As  is  the  earthy,  such  are 
they  that  are  earthy.”  They  are  strictly  natural  men,  and 
seek  that  in  God  which  corresponds  to  their  character. 
The  spirit,  or  the  supernatural  part  of  man,  has  not  yet 
been  renewed  and  vivified  by  a  supernatural  influence, 
and  therefore  there  is  no  search  after  the  spiritual  attri¬ 
butes  of  God.  The  moment  that  the  supernatural  dawns 
upon  such  men,  and  the  moral  attributes  of  God  appear 
in  their  awful  and  solemn  relations  to  law,  guilt,  and 
atonement,  they  are  troubled  ;  and  unless  mercifully 
prevented,  descend  into  the  low  regions  of  nature,  to 
escape  from  a  light  and  a  purity  which  they  cannot 
endure. 

It  will  be  evident  even  from  this  brief  discussion  that 
the  distinction  between  the  natural  and  the  supernatural 
is  a  valid  and  fundamental  one ;  that  the  natural  world 
is  essentially  different  from  the  supernatural,  and  that 
theology,  as  the  science  of  the  supernatural,  possesses 
a  scope,  contents,  and  influence,  as  vast  and  solemn  as 
the  field  of  its  inquiry. 

And  think  for  a  moment  what  this  field  is !  It  is  not 
the  earth  we  tread  upon,  nor  the  heavens  that  are  bent 
over  it,  all  beautiful  and  glorious  as  they  are.  It  is  not 
that  unseen  world  of  living  forces  and  active  laws  which 
lies  under  the  visible  universe,  giving  it  existence  and 
causing  its  manifold  motions  and  changes.  This  is  in¬ 
deed  a  deeply  mysterious  realm,  and  is  a  step  nearer  the 
Eternal  than  all  that  we  see  with  the  eye  or  touch  with 

2 


14 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

the  hand  is  ;  but  it  is  not  the  proper  home  of  theologica 
inquiry. 

Above  the  kingdoms  of  visible  and  invisible  nature, 
there  is  a  world  which  is  the  residence  of  a  personal  God, 
with  supernatural  attributes,  and  the  seat  of  spiritual 
ideas,  laws,  and  relations.  It  is,  to  use  the  language  of 
Plato,  “  that  super-celestial  place  which  no  one  of  the 
poets  has  hitherto  worthily  sung,  or  ever  will,”  where  right¬ 
eousness  itself,  true  wisdom  and  knowledge,  are  to  be 
seen  in  their  very  essence.*  This  is  the  proper  field  of 
theological  inquiry,  and  as  the  mind  ranges  through  it,  it 
comes  in  sight  of  all  that  invests  man’s  spirit  with  infi¬ 
nite  responsibilities,  and  renders  human  existence  one  of 
awful  interest. 

But  what  is  the  proper  method  of  theological  studies  ? 

If  what  has  been  said  relative  to  the  two  great  king¬ 
doms  into  which  the  universe  is  divided,  be  true,  it  is 
plain  that  theological  studies  must  commence  in  that 
supernatural  world  whose  realities  form  its  subject  mat¬ 
ter,  and  that  the  true  method  is  to  descend  from  spirit 
to  nature,  in  our  investigations.  The  contrary  process 
has  been  in  vogue  for  the  last  century  and  a  half,  and 
the  saying  “  from  nature  we  ascend  to  nature’s  God,” 
has  come  to  be  received  as  an  axiom  in  theological 
science. 

If  this  assertion  means  anything,  it  means  that  by  a 
careful  observation  of  all  that  we  can  apprehend  by  the 
five  senses,  in  space,  we  shall  obtain  a  correct  and  full 
knowledge  of  God.  The  spirit  of  the  assertion  is  this  : 
Nature  is  first  in  the  order  of  investigation,  because 
its  teachings  are  more  surely  correct,  and  its  proofs  are 

*  Phaedrus.  Opera  viii.  p.  30.  See  the  whole  of  the  beautiful  descrip 
lion  of  this  virepovpdi/ios  roiros :  a  passage  vividly  reminding  of  1  Cor.  ii. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


15 


more  to  be  relied  on,  than  those  of  the  supernatural. 
Let  us  test  it  by  rigidly  applying  it  to  the  investigation 
of  the  being  and  character  of  God.  What  is  there  in 
nature  which  teaches,  or  proves,  the  existence  of  the 
Holiness  of  God  ;  or  his  Justice  ;  or  his  Mercy  ?  What 
is  there  in  the  world  in  which  we  live  as  beings  of  nature 
and  sense,  which  necessarily  compels  us  to  assume  the 
personality  of  God  ?  It  is  true  that  we  are  taught  by 
all  that  exists  in  “  the  mighty  world  of  eye  and  ear,”  that 
there  are  power  and  adaptive  intelligence  someivliere ,  but 
whether  they  are  seated  in  a  self-conscious  and  personal 
being,  or  are  only  the  eternal  procession  of  a  blind  and 
unconscious  life,  we  cannot  know  anything  that  nature 
teaches.  You  see  a  movement  in  the  natural  world : 
say  the  growth  of  a  plant  or  the  blowing  of  a  flower. 
What  does  that  natural  movement  teach  (considered 
simply  by  itself,  and  with  no  reference  to  a  higher 
knowledge  from  another  source,)  and  what  have  you  a 
right  to  infer  from  it  ?  Simply  this  :  that  there  is  a  mereh 
natural  power  adequate  to  its  production ;  but  whether 
that  power  has  any  connection  with  the  moral  character 
of  a  spiritual  person ,  you  cannot  know  from  anything 
you  see  in  the  natural  phenomenon.  Now  extend  this 
through  infinite  space,  and  will  the  closest  examination 
of  all  the  physical  movements  occurring  in  this  vast  do¬ 
main,  taken  by  itself  lead  up  to  a  personal  and  holy 
God  ?  What  is  there  in  the  law  of  gravity  which  has 
the  least  tendency  to  lead  to  the  recognition  of  the  law 
of  holiness  ?  Is  there  any  similarity  between  the  two  in 
kind  ?  What  can  the  motions  of  the  sun  and  stars, 
the  unvarying  return  of  the  seasons,  the  birth,  growth, 
and  death,  of  animated  existence,  taken  by  themselves , 
teach  regarding  the  supernatural  attributes  of  God  ? 
Take  away  from  man  the  knowledge  ol  God  which  is 


16 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

contained  in  the  human  spirit  and  in  the  written  word 
and  leave  him  to  find  his  way  up  to  a  personal  and  spir- 
itual  Deity  by  the  light  of  nature  alone,  and  he  wil 
grope  in  eternal  darkness,  if  for  no  other  reason,  because 
he  cannot  even  get  the  idea  of  such  a  Being. 

For  the  truth  is,  that  between  the  two  kingdoms  of 
nature  and  spirit  a  great  gulf  is  fixed,  and  the  passage 
from  one  to  the  other  is  not  by  degrees,  but  by  a  leap  ; 
and  this  leap  is  not  up,  but  down.  There  is  one  theory 
which  assumes  that  the  universe  is  but  the  development 
of  one  only  substance  ;  and  if  this  is  a  correct  theory, 
then  it  is  true  that  we  can  “  ascend  from  nature  up  to 
nature’s  God.”  For  all  is  continuous  development,  with 
no  chasm  intervening,  and  die  height  may  consequently 
be  reached  from  the  bottom  by  a  patient  ascent.  There 
is  another  and  the  true  theory,  which  rejects  this  doc¬ 
trine  of  development,  and  substitutes  in  its  place  that  of 
creation,  whereby  nature  is  not  an  emanation,  but  springs 
forth  into  existence  for  the  first  time,  at  the  fiat  of  the 
Creator,  who  is  now  distinct  from  the  work  of  his  hands. 
Nature  is  now,  in  a  certain  sense,  separate  from  God, 
and  instead  of  being  able  to  prove  his  moral  existence, 
or  to  manifest  his  supernatural  and  constituting  attri¬ 
butes,  requires  a  previous  knowledge  of  the  Creator, 
from  another  source,  in  order  to  its  own  time  apprehen¬ 
sion.* 

Now  the  true  method  of  obtaining  a  correct  knowledge 
of  an  object,  is  to  follow  the  method  of  its  origin,  and 
therefore  true  theological  science  follows  the  footsteps  of 


*  Whether  the  absolute  is  the  ground  or  the  cause  is  the  question  which 
has  ever  divided  philosophers.  That  it  is  the  ground  but  not  the  cause  is 
the  assertion  of  Naturalism ;  that  it  is  the  cause  and  not  the  ground  is  the 
assertion  of  Theism.  Jacobi.  Yon  den  Gott.  Dingen.  Werke.  iii.  404,  to* 
gether  with  the  references. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


1? 


God.  It  starts  with  the  assumption  of  his  existence, 
and  the  knowledge  of  his  character  derived  from  a  higher 
source  than  that  of  mere  nature,  that  it  may  find  in  the 
works  of  his  hands  the  illustration  of  his  already  known 
attributes,  and  the  manifestation  of  his  already  be¬ 
lieved  being.  True  theology  descends  from  God  to 
nature,  and  rectifies  and  interprets  all  that  it  finds  in  this 
complicated  and  perplexing  domain,  by  what  it  knows 
of  its  Maker  from  other  and  higher  sources. 

Take  away  from  the  human  spirit  that  knowledge  of 
the  moral  attributes  of  God  which  it  has  from  its  consti¬ 
tution,  and  from  revelation,  and  compel  it  to  deduce  the 
character  of  the  Supreme  Being  from  what  it  sees  in 
the  natural  world,  and  will  it  not  inevitably  become 
skeptical  ?  As  the  thoughtful  heathen  looked  abroad 
over  a  world  of  pain  and  death,  was  he  not  forced  reso¬ 
lutely  to  reject  the  natural  inference  to  be  drawn  from  this 
sight,  and  to  cling  with  desperate  faith  to  the  dictum  of  a 
voice  speaking  from  another  quarter,  saying :  “  See  what 
thou  mayest  in  nature  apparently  to  the  contrary,  He  is 
Just ;  He  is  Holy ;  He  is  Good.” 

This  false  method  of  theological  study  proceeds  from 
a  belief  common  to  man,  resulting  partly  from  his  cor¬ 
ruption  and  partly  from  his  present  existence  in  a  world 
of  sense.  It  is  the  common  belief  of  man  that  reality  in 
the  strictest  sense  of  the  term  is  to  be  predicated  of  ma¬ 
terial  things,  and  in  his  ordinary  thought  and  feeling,  that 
which  is  spiritual  is  unreal.  The  solid  earth  which  the 
“  swain  treads  upon  with  his  clouted  shoon  ”  has  sub¬ 
stantial  existence,  and  its  material  objects  are  real,  but 
if  we  watch  the  common  human  feeling  regarding  such 
objects  as  the  soul  and  God,  we  detect  (not  necessarily 
a  known  and  determined  infidelity,  but)  an  inability  to 
make  them  as  real  and  substantial  as  the  sun  in  thfl 

2* 


18  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

heavens,  or  the  earth  under  foot.  Lord  Bacan  in  de¬ 
scribing  the  idols  of  the  tribe ;  the  false  notions  which 
are  inherent  in  human  nature  ;  says,  that  “  man’s  sense 
is  falsely  asserted  to  be  the  standard  of  things.”  *  It  is, 
however,  under  the  influence  of  the  notion  that  it  is, 
that  man  goes  to  the  investigation  of  truth,  and  espe¬ 
cially  of  theological  truth.  Every  thing  is  determined 
by  a  material  standard,  and  established  from  the  position 
of  materialism.  It  is  assumed  that  nature  is  more  real 
than  spirit ;  that  its  instructions  and  evidences  are  more 
to  be  relied  on  than  those  of  spirit ;  and  that  from  it,  as 
from  the  only  sure  foothold  for  investigation,  we  are  to 
make  hurried  and  timid  excursions  into  that  dim  undis¬ 
covered  realm  of  the  supernatural  which  is  airy  and  un¬ 
real,  and  filled  with  airy  and  unreal  objects. 

This  is  a  low  and  mean  idol,  and  if  the  inquirer  after 
spiritual  truth  bows  down  to  it  he  shall  never  enter  the 
holy  of  holies.  Spirit  is  more  real  than  matter,  for  God 
is  a  spirit.  Supernatural  laws  and  relations  are  more 
real  than  those  of  nature,  for  they  shall  exist  when  na¬ 
ture,  even  to  its  elements,  shall  be  melted  with  fervent 
heat. 

Why  then  should  we,  as  did  the  pagan  mythology, 
make  earth  and  the  earth-born  Atlas  support  the  old  ev¬ 
erlasting  heavens  ?  They  are  self-supported  and  em¬ 
bosom  and  illumine  all  things  else.  Why  should  we 
attempt  to  rest  spiritual  science  upon  natmal  science  ; 
the  eternal  upon  the  temporal ;  the  absolute  upon  the 
empirical ;  the  certain  upon  the  uncertain  ?  Is  all  that 
is  invisible  unreal,  and  must  a  thing  become  the  object 
of  the  five  senses,  before  we  can  be  certain  of  its  reality  ? 
Not  to  go  out  of  the  natural  world ;  by  what  in  this  do 


*  Novum  Organum,  Aph.  41. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


19 


main  are  we  most  vividly  impressed  with  the  conception 
of  reality,  and  how  is  the  notion  of  power  awakened  ? 
Not  by  anything  we  see  with  the  eye  or  touch  with  the 
hand,  but  by  the  knowledge  of  that  unseen  force  and  law 
which  causes  the  motions  of  the  heavens,  and  makes  the 
u  crystal  spheres  ring  out  their  silver  chimes.”  Not  by 
an  examination  of  the  phenomena  of  the  mineral,  vege¬ 
table,  and  animal  kingdoms,  but  by  the  idea  of  that  one 
vast  invisible  life  manifesting  itself  in  them.  Even  here, 
upon  a  thoughtful  reflection,  that  which  is  unseen  shows 
itself  to  be  the  true  reality.  And  to  go  up  higher  into 
the  sphere  of  human  existence  :  where  is  the  substantial 
reality  of  man’s  being  ?  In  that  path  which,  in  the  'an- 
guage  of  Job,  “  no  fowl  knoweth,  and  which  the  vulture’s 
eye  hath  not  seen.”  In  that  unseen  world  where  human 
thought  ranges,  where  human  feelings  swell  into  a  vast¬ 
ness  not  to  be  contained  by  the  great  globe  itself,  and 
where  human  affections  soar  away  into  eternity.  No ! 
reality  in  the  high  sense  of  the  term  belongs  to  the  invis¬ 
ible,  and  in  the  very  highest  sense,  to  the  invisible  things 
of  the  supernatural  world.  There  is  more  of  reality  in 
the  feeblest  finite  spirit  than  in  all  the  material  universe, 
for  it  will  survive  u  the  wreck  of  matter  and  the  crash  of 
worlds.”  The  supernatural  is  a  firmer  foundation  upon 
which  to  establish  science  than  is  the  natural ;  its  data 
are  more  certain,  and  its  testimony  more  sure  than  those 
of  nature.  None  but  an  open  ear,  it  is  true,  can  hear  the 
voices  and  the  dicta  that  come  from  this  highest  world, 
but  he  who  has  once  heard  never  again  doubts  regarding 
them.  He  cannot  doubt,  if  he  would.  He  has  heard  the 
tones,  and  they  will  continue  to  sound  through  his  soul, 
with  louder  and  louder  reverberations,  through  its  whole 
immortality. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  objected  that,  granting  spiritual 


20 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

things  to  be  the  true  realities,  yet  the  mind  cannot  see 
them  except  through  a  medium,  and  cannot  be  certain 
of  their  existence  except  by  means  of  deductions  from  a 
palpable  and  tangible  reality  like  that  of  the  material 
world.  But  is  it  so  ?  Does  the  spirit  need  a  medium 
through  which  to  behold  the  idea  and  law  of  Right,  for 
example  ;  and  must  it  build  up  a  series  of  conclusions 
based  upon  deductions  drawn  from  the  world  of  sense, 
before  it  can  be  certain  that  there  is  any  such  reality  ?  — 
Does  not  the  human  spirit  see  the  idea  of  Right  as 
directly  and  plainly  as  the  material  eye  sees  the  sun  at 
high  noon ;  and  when  it  sees  it,  is  it  not  as  certain  of  its 
existence  as  we  are  of  that  of  the  sun  ?  If  man  does  not 
see  this  spiritual  entity,  this  supernatural  idea,  directly 
and  without  a  medium,  he  will  never  see  it,  and  if  it 
does  not  of  itself  convey  the  evidence  of  its  reality,  it  can 
be  drawn  from  no  other  quarter. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  all  spiritual  entities  what¬ 
ever  ;  of  all  the  objects  of  the  supernatural  world.  The 
rational  spirit  may  and  must  behold  them  by  direct  intui¬ 
tion  in  their  own  pure  white  light.  It  has  the  organ  for 
doing  this.  Not  more  certainly  is  the  material  eye 
designed  for  the  vision  of  the  sun,  than  the  rational  spirit 
is  designed  for  the  vision  of  God.  The  former  is  ex¬ 
pressly  constructed  to  behold  matter,  and  the  latter  is 
just  as  expressly  constructed  to  behold  spirit.  Nor  let  it 
be  supposed  that  the  term  “  behold  ”  is  used  literally  in 
reference  to  the  act  of  the  material  eye,  and  merely 
metaphorically  in  reference  to  the  act  of  the  spirit.  The 
term  is  no  more  the  exclusive  property  of  one  organ  than 
of  the  other.  Or  if  it  is  to  belong  to  one  exclusively  let 
us  rather  appropriate  it  to  that  organ  which  sees  eternal 
distinctions.  If  the  term  “  sight  ”  is  ever  metaphorical, 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


2J 


surely  it  is  not  so  when  applied  to  the  vision  of  immuta¬ 
ble  truths  and  everlasting  realities. 

Man,  both  by  nature  and  by  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  is  placed,  finds  it  difficult  thus  to  contemplate 
abstract  ideal  truth,  and  when  it  eludes  his  imperfect 
vision  he  charges  the  difficulty  upon  the  truth  and  not 
upon  himself.  But  for  all  this  the  ideal  is  real,  and  man 
is  capable  of  this  abstract  vision.  Upon  his  ability  to 
free  himself  from  the  disturbing  influences  of  sense,  to  be 
independent  of  the  physical  senses  in  the  investigation 
of  spiritual  things,  and  to  see  them  in  their  own  light  by 
their  correlative  organ,  depends  his  true  knowledge  of  the 
supernatural.  It  is  on  this  ground  that  Plato  asserts  it 
to  be  the  ti*ue  mark  of  a  philosophic  mind  to  desire  to 
die,  because  the  mind  is  thereby  withdrawn  from  the  dis¬ 
traction  of  sense,  and  in  the  spiritual  world  beholds  the 
Beautiful,  the  True,  and  the  Good,  in  their  essence.  — 
Hence  with  great  force  he  represents  those  spirits  which 
have  not  been  entirely  freed  from  the  crass  and  sensuous 
nature  of  the  body,  as  being  afraid  of  the  purely  spiritual 
world  and  its  supernatural  objects,  and  as  returning  into 
the  world  of  matter  to  wander  as  ghosts  among  tombs 
and  graves,  loving  their  old  material  dwelling  more  than 
the  spirit-land.* 

The  knowledge  which  comes  from  a  direct  vision  of 
spiritual  objects  is  sure,  and  needs  no  evidence  of  its 
truth  from  a  lower  domain.  He  who  has  once  in  spirit 
obtained  a  distinct  sight  of  such  realities  as  the  Good, 
the  Beautiful,  the  True,  and  their  contraries,  will  never 
again  be  in  doubt  of  their  existence,  or  as  to  their  natures. 
These  are  entities  which  once  seen  compel  an  everlast¬ 
ing  belief.  These  are  objects 


*  Fha&don,  Opera  I.  pp.  115.  116,  139. 


22 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


that  wake 

To  perish  never ; 

Which  neither  listlessness  nor  mad  endeavor, 

Nor  man  nor  boy, 

Nor  all  that  is  at  enmity  with  joy, 

Can  utterly  abolish  or  destroy. 

The  true  method  then  of  theological  studies  is  to  com¬ 
mence  in  and  with  the  supernatural  and  to  work  outward 
and  downward  to  the  natural.  The  theologian  must 
study  his  own  spirit  by  the  aid  of  the  written  word.  He 
will  ever  find  the  two  in  perfect  harmony  and  mutually 
confirming  each  other.  The  supernatural  doctrines  of 
theology  must  be  seen  in  their  own  light ;  must  bring 
their  own  evidence  with  them,  and  theology  must  be  a 
self-supported  science. 

Whatever  may  be  said  in  opposition  to  this  method 
by  those  who  magnify  natural  theology  to  the  injury  of 
spiritual  religion,  it  has  always  been  the  method  of  in¬ 
quiry  employed  by  the  profoundest  and  most  accurate 
theologians.  Augustine  lived  at  a  period  when  natural 
science  was  but  little  cultivated  and  advanced,  but  even 
if  he  had  possessed  all  the  physical  knowledge  of  the 
present  day,  that  inward  experience  with  its  throes, 
agonies,  and  joys,  so  vividly  portrayed  in  his  “  Confes¬ 
sions,”  would  still  have  kept  his  eye  turned  inward.  The 
power  of  Luther  and  Calvin  lies  in  their  realizing  views 
of  supernatural  objects  seen  by  their  own  light;  and 
nothing  but  an  absolutely  abstract  and  direct  beholding 
of  supernatural  realities  could  have  produced  the  calm 
assurance  and  profound  theology  of  that  loftiest  of  human 
spirits,  John  Howe. 

But  what  has  been  the  result  of  the  contrary  method  ? 
Have  not  those  who  commenced  with  the  study  of 
natural  theology,  and  who  made  this  the  foundation  of 
their  inquiries  into  the  nature  and  mutual  relations  of 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


23 


God  and  man,  always  remained  on  the  spot  where  they 
first  stationed  themselves  ?  Did  they,  by  logically  fol¬ 
lowing  their  assumed  method,  ever  rise  above  the  sphere 
of  merely  natural  religion  into  that  of  supernatural,  and 
obtain  just  views  either  of  the  Infinite  Spirit  as  personal 
and  therefore  tri-une ;  or  of  the  Finite  Spirit  as  free,  re¬ 
sponsible  and  guilty  ?  Did  they  ever  acquire  rational 
views  of  holy  and  just  law;  of  law  as  strictly  supernatu¬ 
ral;  and  so  of  its  relations  to  guilt  and  expiation  ? 

An  undue  study  of  natural  science  inevitably  leads  to 
wrong  theological  opinions.  Unless  it  be  pursued  in  the 
light  which  spirit  casts  upon  nature,  the  student  will 
misapprehend  both  nature  and  spirit.  Who  can  doubt 
that  if  Priestley  had  devoted  less  time  to  the  phenomena 
of  the  natural  world,  and  far  more  to  those  of  the  super¬ 
natural  ;  less  attention  to  physical  laws  as  seen  in  the 
operations  of  acids  and  alkalies,  and  far  more  attention 
to  the  operation  of  a  spiritual  law  as  revealed  in  a  guilty 
conscience ;  he  would  have  left  a  theology  far  more 
nearly  conformed  to  the  word  of  God  and  the  structure 
of  the  human  spirit. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  speaking  of  the  super¬ 
natural  element  in  theological  studies,  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  where  their  power  lies,  and  whence  their  influ¬ 
ence  comes.  I  turn  now  to  consider  the  influence  of 
these  studies  as  they  have  been  characterized,  upon  edu¬ 
cation  and  the  educated  class  in  the  state. 

Genuine  education  is  immediately  concerned  with  the 
essence  of  the  mind  itself,  and  its  power  and  work  appear 
in  the  very  substance  of  the  understanding.  It  starts 
into  exercise  deeper  powers  than  the  memory,  and  it  does 
more  for  the  mind  than  merelv  to  fill  it.  It  enters  rather 
into  its  constituent  and  controlling  principles ;  rouses 
and  develops  them,  and  thus  establishes  a  basis  for  the 


24  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

mind’s  perpetual  motion  and  progress.  Whether  there 
be  much  or  little  acquired  information  is  of  small  import¬ 
ance,  comparatively,  if  the  mind  has  that  which  is  the 
secret  of  mental  superiority,  the  power  of  originating 
knowledge  upon  a  given  subject  for  itself,  and  can  fall 
back  upon  its  own  native  energies  for  information.  That 
process  whereby  a  mind  acquires  the  ability  to  fasten 
itself  with  absorbing  intensity  upon  any  legitimate 
object  of  human  inquiry,  and  to  originate  profound 
thought  and  clear  conceptions  regarding  it,  is  education. 

The  truth  of  this  assertion  will  be  apparent  if  we  bear 
in  mind  that  knowledge,  in  the  high  sense  of  the  term, 
is  not  the  remembrance  of  facts,  but  the  intuition  of  prin¬ 
ciples.  Facts  are  that  through  which  principles  manifest 
themselves,  and  by  which  they  are  illustrated,  but  to  take 
them  for  the  essence  of  knowledge  is  to  mistake  the 
body  for  the  soul.  The  true  knowledge  of  nature,  art, 
philosophy,  and  religion,  is  an  insight  into  their  constitu¬ 
ent  principles,  of  which  facts  and  phenomena  are  but  the 
raiment ;  the  “  white  and  glistering  ”  raiment  in  which 
the  essence  is  transfigured  and  through  which  it  shines. 

Now,  principles  are  entities  that  do  not  exist  either  in 
space  or  time.  They  cannot  be  apprehended  by  any 
organ  of  sense,  and  therefore  they  are  not  in  space.  — 
They  cannot  in  a  literal  sense  be  said  to  be  old  or  new. 
Principles  are  eternal  and  therefore  they  are  not  in  time. 
Where  then  are  they  ?  In  the  intellectual  world :  —  a 
world  that  is  not  measured  by  space  or  limited  by 
periods  of  time,  but  which  has,  nevertheless,  as  real  an 
existence  as  this  globe.  In  the  world  of  mind,  all  those 
principles  which  constitute  knowledge  are  to  be  sought 
for.  They  lie  in  the  structure  of  mind,  and  therefore  the 
development  of  the  mind  is  but  the  discovery  of  princi¬ 
ples,  and  education  is  the  origination  of  substantia] 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


25 


knowledge  out  of  the  very  being  who  is  to  be  educat¬ 
ed.* 

Thus,  by  this  brief  examination  of  the  true  nature  of 
Knowledge,  do  we  come  round  in  a  full  circle  to  the  spot 
whence  we  started,  and  see  that  he  alone  is  in  the  pro¬ 
cess  of  true  education  who  is  continually  looking  within, 
and  by  the  gradual  evolution  of  his  own  mind  is  continu- 
ally  unfolding  those  principles  of  knowledge  that  lie 
imbedded  in  it.  Such  an  one  may  not  have  amassed 
great  erudition,  but  he  possesses  a  working  intellect 
which,  unencumbered  by  amassed  materials,  overflows 
all  the  more  freely  with  original  principles.  We  feel 
.  that  such  a  mind  is  educated,  for  its  products,  are  alive 
and  communicate  life.  From  a  living  impulse  it  origin¬ 
ates  a  knowledge,  regarding  any  particular  subject  to 
which  it  directs  itself,  that  commends  itself  to  us  as  truth, 
by  its  congeniality  and  affinity  with  our  own  mind,  and 
by  its  kindling  influence  upon  it. 

Accustomed,  from  the  domination  of  a  mental  philos¬ 
ophy  which  rejects  tne  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  to  con¬ 
sider  learning  as  something  carried  into  the  mind  instead 
of  something  drawn  out  of  it,  it  sounds  strangely  to 
speak  of  originating  knowledge.  But  who  are  the  really 
learned  statesmen,  philosophers,  and  divines  ?  Not  those 
who  merely  commit  to  memory  the  results  of  past  inquiry, 
but  those  in  whom  after  deep  reflection  the  principles  of 
government,  philosophy,  and  religion,  rise  into  sight,  with 
the  freshness,  inspiration,  and  splendor,  of  a  new  dis¬ 
covery.  In  asserting  however  that  learning  is  the 
product  of  the  mind  itself,  I  mean  that  it  is  relatively  so. 


*  This  is  Plato’s  meaning  when  he  asserts  that  learning  is  recollection 
the  reminding  of  the  human  spirit  of  those  great  principles  which  are  bom 
with  it,  and  which  constitute  its  rationality.  —  Phaedon  Opera  I.  p.  125, 
et  seq.  Cudworth’s  Im.  Mor.  Book  iii,  Chap.  3. 

3 


26 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


It  is  not  asserted  that  every  truly  learned  mind  discovers 
absolutely  new  principles,  and  consequently  that  the 
future  is  to  bring  to  light  a  great  amount  of  knowledge 
unknown  to  the  past.  Far  from  it.  The  sum  of  human 
knowledge,  with  the  exception  of  that  part  relating  to 
the  domain  of  natural  science,  is  undoubtedly  complete, 
and  we  are  not  to  expect  the  discovery  of  any  new  fun¬ 
damental  principles  in  the  sphere  of  the  supernatural.  — 
But  it  is  asserted  with  confidence  that  these  old  principles 
must  be  discovered  afresh  for  himself  by  every  one  who 
would  be  truly  educated.  “  He  who  has  been  born,” 
says  an  eloquent  writer,  “  has  been  a  first  man,  and  has 
had  the  world  lying  around  him  as  fresh  and  fair  as  it 
lay  before  the  eyes  of  Adam  himself.”  In  like  manner, 
he  who  has  been  created  a  rational  spirit,  has  a  world  of 
rational  principles  encircling  him,  which  is  as  new  and 
undiscovered  for  him  as  it  was  for  the  first  man.  In  the 
hemisphere  of  his  own  self-reflection  and  self-conscious¬ 
ness,  the  sun  must  rise  for  the  first  time,  and  the  stars 
must  send  down  their  very  freshest  influences,  their  very 
first  and  purest  gleam. 

For  education,  in  the  eminent  sense  of  the  term,  is 
dynamic  and  not  atomic.  It  does  not  lie  in  the  mind 
in  the  form  of  congregated  atoms,  but  of  living,  salient, 
energies.  It  is  not  therefore  poured  in  from  without,  but 
springs  up  from  within.  The  power  of  pure  thought  is 
education.  '  Indeed  the  more  we  consider  the  nature  of 
mental  education,  the  more  clearly  do  we  see  that  it  con¬ 
sists  in  the  power  of  pure,  practical  reflection  ;  the  ability 
so  to  absorb  the  mind  that  it  shall  sink  down  into  itself, 
until  it  reaches  those  ultimate  principles,  bedded  in  its 
essence,  by  which  facts  and  all  acquired  and  remembered 
information  are  illuminated  and  vivified.  It  cannot  be 
that  he  who  remembers  the  most,  is  the  most  thoroughly 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


27 


educated  man,  or  that  the  age  which  is  in  possession  of 
the  greatest  amount  of  books  and  recorded  information- 
is  the  most  learned.  No !  learning  is  the  product  of  a 
powerful  mind,  which,  by  self-reflection  and  absorption 
in  pure,  practical  thought,  goes  down  into  those  depths 
of  the  intellectual  world,  where,  as  in  the  world  of  matter, 
the  gems  and  gold,  the  seeds,  and  germs,  and  roots,  are 
to  be  found.  It  is  related  that  Socrates  could  remain  a 
whole  day  utterly  lost  in  profound  reflection.*  This  was 
the  education  in  that  age  of  no  books,  to  which,  through 
his  scholar  Plato,  himself  educated  in  the  same  way,  is 
owing  a  system  of  philosophy,  substantial  with  the  very 
essence  of  learning ;  a  system  which  for  insight  into 
ultimate  principles  is  at  the  head  of  all  human  knowledge. 
Such  being  the  nature  of  education,  it  is  evident  that 
theological  studies  are  better  fitted  than  anv  others,  to 

%j  * 

educe  a  rational  mind.  For  they  bring  it  into  imme¬ 
diate  communication  with  those  supernatural  realities 
and  truths  which  are  appropriate  to  it,  and  which  possess 
a  strong  power  of  development.  There  is  in  the  human 
mind  a  vast  amount  of  latent  energy  forming  the  basis 
for  an  endless  progress,  and  this  will  lie  latent  and  dor¬ 
mant  unless  the  forces  of  the  supernatural  woild  evolve 
it.  The  world  of  nature  unfolds  merely  the  superficies 
of  man,  leaving  the  hidden  depths  of  his  being  unstirred, 
and  only  when  the  windows  of  heaven  are  opened  are 
the  fountains  of  this  great  deep  broken  up.  For  proof 
of  this  assertion,  consider  the  influence  which  the  theolo¬ 
gical  doctrine  of  the  soul’s  immortality  exerts  upon  the 
spirit.  'When  man  realizes  that  he  is  immortal  he  is 
supernaturally  roused.  Depths  are  revealed  in  his  being 
which  he  did  not  dream  of,  down  into  which  he  looks 
with  solemn  awe,  and  energies  which  had  hitherto  slum 


*  Convivium.  Platonis  Opera  vii.  p.  278. 


28  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

bered  from  his  creation  are  now  set  into  a  play  at  which 
he  stands  aghast.  Never  do  the  tides  of  that  shoreless 
ocean,  the  human  soul,  heave  and  swell  as  they  do  when 
it  feels  what  the  scripture  calls  “  the  power  of  an  endless 
life.”  The  same  remark  holds  true  of  all  properly  theo¬ 
logical  doctrines.  An  unequalled  developing  influence 
rains  down  from  this  great  constellation. 

And  the  intellect  as  well  as  the  heart  of  man  feels  the 
influence.  Hence  that  period  in  a  man’s  life  which  is 
marked  by  a  realizing  and  practical  apprehension  of  the 
doctrines  of  spiritual  religion  is  also  marked  by  a  great 
increase  of  intellectual  power.  A  manlier  and  more  sub¬ 
stantial  cultivation  begins,  because  the  being  has  become 
conscious  of  his  high  origin  and  the  awfulness  of  his 
destiny,  and  a  stronger  play  of  intellectual  power  is 
evoked,  because  the  stream  of  supernatural  influence  flows 
through  the  whole  man,  and  both  head  and  heart  feel  its 
vivification.  The  value  of  theological  studies,  in  an 
intellectual  point  of  view,  does  not  consist  so  much  in 
the  amount  of  information  as  in  the  amount  of  energy 
imparted  by  them.  The  doctrines  of  theology,  like  the 
solar  centres,  are  comparatively  few  in  number,  and  while 
the  demand  they  make  upon  the  memory  is  small,  the 
demand  they  make  upon  the  power  of  reflection  is 
infinite  and  unending.  For  this  reason,  theological 
studies  are  in  the  highest  degree  fitted  to  originate  and 
carry  on  a  true  education.  There  is  an  invigorating  vir¬ 
tue  in  them  which  strengthens  while  it  unfolds  the 
mental  powers,  and  therefore  the  more  absorbing  the 
intensity  with  which  the  mind  dwells  upon  them,  the 
more  it  is  endued  with  power. 

This  truth  is  very  plainly  written  in  literary  history. 
If  we  would  see  that  period  when  the  mind  of  a  nation 
was  most  full  of  original  power,  we  must  contemplate 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


2& 


its  theological  age.  We  ever  find  that  the  national  intel¬ 
lect  is  most  energetically  educed  in  that  period  when  the 
attention  of  educated  men  is  directed  with  great  earnest¬ 
ness  to  theological  studies,  while  that  period  which  is 
characterized  by  a  false  study,  or  a  general  neglect,  of 
them,  is  one  of  very  shallow  education.  Compare  the 
education  of  the  English  mind  during  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  with  its  education  in  the  eigh¬ 
teenth.  The  great  difference  between  the  two,  is  owing 
to  the  serious  and  profound  reflection  upon  strictly  theo¬ 
logical  subjects  that  prevailed  in  the  first  period,  and  to 
the  absence  of  such  reflection  in  the  second.  The  former 
was  a  theological  age  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term ;  a 
period  when  the  educated  class  felt  very  powerfully  the 
vigor  proceeding  from  purely  supernatural  themes.  The 
latter  was  a  period  when,  through  the  influence  of  a  sys¬ 
tem  of  philosophy  which  teaches  that  every  thing  must 
be  learned  through  the  five  senses,  a  mere  naturalism 
took  the  place  of  supernaturalism,  and  when,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  the  mind  of  the  literary  class  was  not  the  sub¬ 
ject  of  those  developing  and  energizing  influences  which 
proceed  only  from  supernatural  truths. 

Again,  that  we  may  still  more  clearly  see  the  vigorous 
character  imparted  to  education  by  purely  theological 
studies,  let  us  consider  two  individuals  who  stand  at  the 
head  of  two  different  classes  of  literary  men,  and  afford 
two  different  specimens  of  intellectual  culture  :  —  Lord 
Chancellor  Bacon  and  Lord  Chancellor  Brougham. 

The  education  of  Bacon  is  the  result,  in  no  small 
degree,  of  the  influence  of  the  truths  of  supernatural 
science.  There  was  no  naturalism  in  the  age  of  Bacon  ; 
there  was  none  in  his  culture ;  and  there  is  none  in  his 
writings.  He  lived  at  a  period  when  the  English  mind 
was  stirred  very  deeply  bv  religious  doctrines,  and  when 

3* 


30  THE  METHOD,  AMD  INFLUENCE, 

the  truths  of  the  supernatural  world  were  very  absorbing 
topics  of  thought  and  discussion,  not  only  for  divines, 
but  for  statesmen.  We  of  this  enlightened  nineteenth 
century,  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  those  centuries  of 
reformation,  dark,  in  comparison  with  our  own  ;  but  with 
all  the  darkness  on  some  subjects,  it  may  be  fearlessly 
asserted  that  since  the  first  two  centuries  of  the  history 
of  Christianity,  there  has  never  been  a  period  when  so 
large  a  portion  of  the  race  have  been  so  deeply  and  anx¬ 
iously  interested  in  the  truths  pertaining  to  another 
world,  as  in  those  two  centuries  of  reformation ;  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth.  With  all  the  lack  of  modern 
improvements  and  civilization,  there  was  everywhere  a 
firm  belief  in  the  supernatural,  and  a  sacred  reverence  for 
religion.  Even  the  very  keenness  and  acrimony  of  the 
theological  disputations  of  that  period  prove  that  men 
believed,  as  they  do  not  in  an  indifferent  age,  that  reli¬ 
gious  doctrines  are  matters  of  vital  interest. 

Bacon  lived  in  this  age ;  in  its  first  years,  and  felt  the 
first  and  freshest  influences  of  the  great  awakening.  His 
intellect  felt  them,  and  hence  its  masculine  development 
and  vigor.  The  products  of  his  intellect  felt  them,  and 
hence  the  solid  substance,  strong  sinew,  and  warm  blood, 
of  which  they  are  made. 

The  education  of  Brougham  has  been  obtained  in  a 
very  different  age  from  that  of  Bacon :  an  age  when  the 
faith  and  interest  which  the  learned  class  once  felt  in  the 
realities  of  another  world,  have  transferred  themselves 
to  the  realities  of  this.  It  has  also  been  the  result,  in 
no  small  degree,  of  the  belief  and  the  study  of  the 
half-truths  of  natural  theology.  While  then  the  recorded 
learning  of  Bacon  bears  the  stamp  of  originality,  is 
drenched  and  saturated  with  the  choicest  intellectual 
spirit  and  energy,  makes  an  epoch  in  literary  history,  and 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


31 


sends  forth  through  all  time  an  enlivening  power,  the 
recorded  learning  of  Brougham  is  destitute  of  fresh  life* 
being  the  result  of  a  diligent  acquisition,  and  not  of  pro¬ 
found  contemplation,  gives  off  little  invigorating  influence, 
and  cannot  form  a  marked  period  in  the  history  of  lite¬ 
rature. 

Thus  far  we  have  considered  the  developing  and  ener¬ 
gizing  influence  of  theological  studies  ;  but  if  we  should 
stop  here,  we  should  be  very  far  from  discovering  their 
full  worth.  There  is  a  merely  speculative  development 
and  energy  of  the  mind  which  is  heaven-wide  from  genu¬ 
ine  education,  and  really  prevents  growth  in  true  knowl¬ 
edge. 

There  have  ever  been,  and,  so  long  as  man  shall 
continue  to  be  a  fallen  spirit,  there  ever  will  be,  two 
kinds  of  thought.  The  one  speculative  and  hollow;  the 
other  practical  and  substantial.  The  one  wasting  itself 
upon  the  factitious  products  of  its  own  energy  ;  the  other 
expending  itself  upon  those  great  realities  which  are 
veritable,  and  have  an  existence  independent  of  the  finite 
mind.  The  natural  tendency  of  the  intellect,  when  not 

t/  ' 

actuated  by  a  rational  and  holy  will ,  is  to  produce  purely 
speculative  thought,  and  in  this  direction  do  we  see  all 
intellect  going  which  does  not  feel  the  influence  of  moral 
and  spiritual  truth.  The  speculative  reason  is  a  wonder¬ 
ful  mechanism,  and  if  kept  within  its  proper  domain,  and 
applied  to  its  correlative  objects,  is  an  important  instru¬ 
ment  in  the  attainment  of  truth  and  culture,  but  if 
suffered  to  pass  over  its  appointed  limits,  and  to  occupy 
itself  with  the  investigation  of  subjects  to  which  it  is  not 
adapted,  it  brings  in  error  rapidly  and  ad  infinitum ,  pre¬ 
venting  the  true  progress  and  repose  of  the  spirit.  There 
is  no  end  to  the  manufactures  of  the  speculative  faculty, 
or  to  the  productive  energy  of  its  life,  when  once  the  pro* 


32 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


cess  of  speculation  is  begun.  Nay,  it  is  the  express 
doctrine  of  Fichte  (the  most  intensely  and  purely  specu¬ 
lative  intellect  the  world  has  yet  seen)  that  the  finite 
mind  having  the  principle  of  its  own  movement  within 
itself,  by  working  in  accordance  with  its  own  indwelling 
laws,  is  able  to  create ,  and  actually  does  create  the  grea 
universe  itself!  The  history  of  philosophy  disclose 
much  of  such  speculative  thought,  and  hence  the  dissat¬ 
isfaction  of  philosophy  with  what  it  has  hitherto  done, 
and  its  striving  after  a  substantial  and  genuine  knowl¬ 
edge.  Man  as  a  moral  being  cannot  be  content  with 
these  hollow  speculations,  for  spirit  as  well  as  nature 
abhors  a  vacuum.  Thought  must  be  filled  up  with  sub¬ 
stantial  verity,  and  knowledge  must  become  practical, 
in  order  to  the  repose  and  true  education  of  the  mind. 

Yet  notwithstanding  the  unsatisfying  nature  of  specu¬ 
lative  thinking,  an  intellectual  life  and  enthusiasm  are 
generated  by  it  which  invest  it  with  a  charming  facina- 
tion  for  the  mind  that  is  led  on  by  a  merely  speculative 
interest.  What  though  the  thinker  is  bewildered  and 
lost  in  the  mazes  of  speculation  ;  he  is  'bewildered  and 
lost  in  wonderful  regions,  the  astounding  nature  of 
whose  objects  represses,  for  a  time,  the  feelings  of  doubt 
and  dissatisfaction.  He  is  like  the  pilgrim  lost  in  “  the 
gorgeous  East,”  who  is  delightedly  lost  amid  the  luxuri¬ 
ant  entanglements  and  wild  enchantments  of  the  oriental 
jungle.  In  this  exciting  world  of  speculation,  the  ener¬ 
gies  of  the  intellect  are  in  full  action,  the  thirst  and 
curiosity  for  knowledge  are  keen,  and  under  the  impulse 
of  these  the  thinker  says  with  Jacobi ;  “  though  I  know 
the  insufficiency  of  my  philosophizing,  still  I  can  only 
philosophize  right  on.”  * 

*  Jacobi,  quoted  by  Tholuck.  Vermischte  Schriften.  ii.  427  ;  and  see  a 
similar  remark  by  Kant,  Kritik  der  reinen  Yernunft.  p,  196.  The  philoso 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


no 


GO 


It  is  possible  to  evoke  intellectual  energy  so  powerfully 
and  habitually  that  the  action  shall  become  organic,  and 

«/  O  ' 

the  intellect  shall  be  instinctively  busy  with  the  produc¬ 
tion  and  reproduction  of  speculations ;  and  though  the 
thinker  gets  no  repose  of  soul  by  it,  yet  he  is  so  much 
under  the  power  of  the  intellectual  appetite  that  he  will 
not  cease  to  gratify  it.  There  is  no  more  mournful  chap¬ 
ter  in  the  history  of  literary  men  than  that  which  records 
their  unending  speculative  struggles  ;  their  efforts  to  find 
peace  of  mind  and  true  education  in  the  application  of 
merely  speculative  energy  to  the  solution  of  the  great 
problems  of  moral  existence.  The  process  of  speculation 
continually  becomes  more  and  more  impeded,  as  at  every 
advance  still  more  mysterious  problems  come  into  sight, 
not  soluble  by  this  method;  the  over-tasked  intellect  at 
length  gives  out,  and  its  gifted  possessor  falls  into  the 
abyss  of  unbelief  like  an  archangel. 

It  is  not  enough  therefore  that  the  latent  power  of  the 
mind  is  developed  merely  ;  it  must  be  developed  by  some 
substantial  objects,  and  it  must  be  expended  upon  some 
veritable  realities.  In  other  words,  the  thought  of  man 
must  be  called  forth  by  the  ideas  and  principles  of  the 
supernatural  world,  and  the  mind  of  man  must  find 
repose  and  education  in  moral  truth. 


pher,  (says  Chalybaus  in  the  conclusion  of  his  lecture  upon  Jacobi,  Vorles 
ungen  p.  77.)  as  well  as  the  poet,  can  say  of  himself : — 

Ich  halte  diesen  Drang  vergebens  auf, 

Der  Tag  und  Nacht  in  meinem  Busen  wechselt, 

Wenn  ich  nicht  sinnen  oder  dichten  soli, 

So  ist  das  Leben  mir  kein  Leben  mehr ! 

Yerbiete  du  dem  Seidenwurm,  zu  spinnen  — 

Wenn  er  sich  schon  dem  Tode  naher  spinnt, 

D  as  kdstlichste  Geweb’  entwickelt  er 
Aus  seinem  Innersten,  und  laszt  nicht  ab 
Bis  er  in  seinen  Sarg  sich  eingeschlossen. 


34 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


The  reader  of  Plato  is  struck  with  the  earnestness  with 
which  this  truly  philosophic  and  educated  mind  insists 
upon  knowing  that  which  really  is,  as  the  end  of  philoso¬ 
phy.  It  matters  not  how  consecutive  and  consistent 
with  itself  a  system  of  thought  may  be,  if  it  has  no  cor¬ 
respondent  in  the  world  of  being,  and  does  not  find  a 
confirmation  in  the  world  of  absolute  reality.  The  form 
may  be  distinct,  and  the  proportions  symmetrical,  but 
the  thing  is  spectral  and  unsubstantial,  and  though  it  be 
dignified  with  the  name  of  philosophy,  it  is  nevertheless 
a  pure  figment.  Though  not  the  product  of  the  fancy 
but  of  a  far  higher  faculty,  a  merely  speculative  philo¬ 
sophical  system  is  but  a  fiction  ;  a  creation  of  the  brain, 
to  which  there  is,  objectively,  nothing  correspondent.  As 
an  instance  of  such  philosophizing,  take  the  system  of 
Spinoza.  No  one  can  deny  that  as  a  merely  speculative 
unity,  it  is  perfect,  and  perfectly  satisfies  the  wants  of 
that  part  of  the  human  understanding  which  looks  for 
nothing  but  a  theoretical  whole.  All  its  parts  are  in 
most  perfect  harmony  with  each  other,  and  with  the 
whole.  This  system  is  conceived  and  executed  in  a 
most  systematic  spirit,  and  if  man  had  no  moral  reason 
which  seeks  for  something  more  than  a  merely  specula¬ 
tive  unity,  it  would  be  for  him  the  true  theory  of  the 
universe.  But  why  is  it  not,  and  why  cannot  the  hu¬ 
man  mind  be  content  with  it  ?  Because  a  rational  spirit 
cannot  rest  in  it.  There  is  in  this  system,  great  and 
architectural  as  it  is,  no  repose  or  home  for  a  moral 
being,  and  therefore  it  is  not  truth ;  for  absolute  truth  is 
infallibly  known  by  the  absolute  and  everlasting  satisfac¬ 
tion  it  affords  to  the  moral  spirit. 

Another  great  aim  of  education,  therefore,  is  the  calm 
repose  of  the  mind;  its  settlement  in  indisputable  truth. 
This  can  proceed  only  from  the  study  of  the  purely  spir- 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


35 


itual  truths  of  theology,  because  such  is  their  nature  that 
there  can  be  no  real  dispute  regarding  them,  whereas 
merely  speculative  dogmas  are  susceptible  of,  and  awak¬ 
en,  an  endless  ratiocination.  There  has  always  been,  for 
example,  even  among  thoughtful  men  a  keen  dispute  re¬ 
garding  some  points  in  the  mode  of  the  Divine  existence, 
but  none  at  all  regarding  the  Divine  character.  The 
doctrine  of  the  subsistence  of  creation  in  the  creator  has 
ever  awakened  honest  disputations  among  sincere  dis¬ 
putants,  but  the  doctrine  that  God  is  holy  has  never 
been  doubted  by  a  conscientious  thinker.  This  holds 
true  of  ail  speculative  and  practical  doctrines.  Within 
the  sphere  of  theory  and  speculation  there  is  room  for 
endless  wanderings,  and  no  foundation  upon  which  the 
spirit  can  stand  still  and  firm.  Within  the  sphere  of 
practice  and  morality  there  need  be  no  doubt  nor  error, 
and  the  sincere  mind,  by  a  direct  vision  of  the  truths  of 
this  practical  domain  of  knowledge,  may  enter  at  once 
and  forever  into  rest. 

The  influence  of  purely  theological  studies,  in  produc¬ 
ing  an  education  that  ministers  repose  and  harmony  to 
the  mind,  is  great  and  valuable.  The  intellectual  energy 
is  not  awakened  by  abstractions,  nor  is  it  expended  upon 
them,  but  upon  those  supernatural  realities  which  are  the 
appropriate  objects  of  a  rational  contemplation,  and  which 
completely  satisfy  the  wants  of  an  immortal  being.  For 
that  which  imparts  substantiality  to  thought,  is  religion, 
and  all  reflection  which  does  not  in  the  end  refer  to  the 
moral  and  supernatural  relations  of  man,  is  worthless 
Though  a  fallen  spirit,  man  still  bears  about  with  him  the 
great  idea  of  his  origin  and  destiny.  This  allows  him 
no  real  peace  or  satisfaction  but  in  religious  truth,  and 
there  are  moments,  consequently,  in  the  life  of  the  edu¬ 
cated  man,  when  he  feels  with  deep  despondency  the 


36 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


need  of  the  purer  culture,  and  the  more  satisfactory  re. 
flection,  of  better  studies.  If  any,  short  of  strictly  theo¬ 
logical  studies,  can  give  repose  of  mind,  they  would  have 
given  it  to  the  poet  Goethe.  Yet  that  mind,  singu¬ 
larly  symmetrical  and  singularly  calm  by  nature,  af¬ 
ter  ranging  for  half  a  century  through  all  regions  save 
that  strictly  supernatural  world  of  which  we  have  spok¬ 
en,  and  after  obtaining  what  of  culture  and  intellectual 
satisfaction  is  to  be  found  short  of  spiritual  truths ;  that 
mind,  so  richly  and  variously  gifted,  at  the  close  of  its 
existence  on  earth  confessed  that  it  had  never  experi¬ 
enced  a  moment  of  genuine  repose. 

The  German  poet  is  not  the  only  one  whose  educa¬ 
tion  did  not  contribute  to  repose  and  peace  of  mind. 
The  literary  life  has  not  hitherto  been  calm  and  satisfied. 
From  all  times,  and  from  all  classes  of  educated  minds, 
there  comes  the  mournful  confession  that  “  he  that  in- 
creaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow,”  and  that  all 
learning  which  does  not  go  beyond  the  consciousness  of 
the  natural  man  and  have  for  its  object  the  Good,  the 
True,  and  the  Divine,  cannot  satisfy  the  demands  of 
man’s  ideal  state.  From  Philosophy,  from  Poetry,  and 
from  Art,  is  heard  the  acknowledgment  that  there  is  no 
repose  for  the  rational  spirit  but  in  moral  truth.  The 
testimony  that  the  whole  creation  groaneth  and  travail- 
eth  in  pain,  together,  is  as  loud  and  convincing  from  the 
domain  of  letters,  as  it  is  from  the  cursed  and  thistle¬ 
bearing  ground.  From  the  immortal  longing  and  dis¬ 
satisfaction  of  Plato,  down  to  the  wild  and  passionate 
restlessness  of  Byron  and  Shelley,  the  evidence  is  deci¬ 
sive  that  a  spiritual  and  religious  element  must  enter 
into  the  education  of  man  in  order  to  inward  harmony 
and  rest. 

Time  forbids  a  longer  discussion  of  this  part  of  the 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


37 


subject.  It  may  be  said  as  a  result  of  the  whole,  that  a 
thorough  study  of  theology  as  the  science  of  the  super- 
natural,  results  in  a  profundity  and  harmony  of  educa¬ 
tion  which  can  be  obtained  in  no  other  way,  and  if  the 
culture  which  comes  from  poetry  and  line  literature  gen¬ 
erally  be  also  mingled  with  it,  a  truly  beautiful  as  well 
as  profound  education  will  be  the  result  of  the  alchemy. 

I  turn  now  to  consider  the  influence  of  theological 
studies  upon  Literature.  And  let  me  again  remind  you 
that  I  am  speaking  of  purely  theological  studies,  as  they 
have  been  defined.  There  is  an  influence  proceeding 
from  so-called  theological  studies,  which  deprives  litera¬ 
ture  of  its  depth,  power,  beauty,  and  glory ;  the  quasi 
religious  influence  of  naturalism,  of  which  the  poetry  of 
Pope,  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  the  divinity  of  Priestley, 
and  the  morality  of  Paley,  are  the  legitimate  and  neces¬ 
sary  results. 

The  fact  strikes  us  in  the  outset,  that  the  noblest  and 
loftiest  literature  has  always  appeared  in  those  periods 
ol  a  nation’s  existence,  when  its  literary  men  were  most 
under  the  influence  of  theological  science.  Whether  we 
look  at  Pagan  or  Christian  literature,  we  find  this  asser¬ 
tion  verified.  The  mythology  and  theology  of  Greece 
exerted  their  greatest  influence  upon  Homer,  the  three 
dramatists,  and  Plato  ;  and  these  are  the  great  names  in 
Grecian  literature.  If  Cicero  is  ever  vigorous  and  origi¬ 
nal  he  is  in  his  ethical  and  theological  writings.  The 
beautiful  flower  of  Italian  literature  is  the  “  unfathom¬ 
able  song  ”  of  the  religious  Dante.  The  beauty  and 
strength  of  English  literature  are  the  fruit  of  those  two 
pre-eminently  theological  centuries  :  —  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth.  The  originality  and  life  which  for  the  last 
century  has  given  German  literature  the  superiority  ovei 
other  literatures  of  this  period,  must  be  referred  mainly  to 

4 


38 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


the  tendency  of  the  German  mind  toward  theological  truth. 
And  judging  a  priori,  we  should  conclude  that  such  would 
be  the  fact.  We  might  safely  expect  that  the  human 
mind  would  produce  its  most  perfect  results,  when  most 
under  the  influences  that  conle  from  its  birth-place.  We 
might  know  beforehand,  that  truth  and  beauty  would 
flow  most  freely  into  the  creations  of  man’s  mind,  when 
he  himself  is  in  most  intimate  communication  with  that 
world  where  these  qualities  have  their  eternal  fountain. 

1.  The  first  and  best  fruit  of  the  influence  of  the¬ 
ology  upon  literature  is  profundity.  This  characteristic 
of  the  best  literature  of  a  nation  is  immediately  noticed 
by  the  scholar,  so  that  its  decrease  or  absence  is,  for  him, 
the  chief  sign  of  deterioration.  In  that  glorious  age  of  a 
nation  when  the  solemn  spirit  of  religion  informs  every¬ 
thing  ;  when,  compared  with  after  ages,  the  nation  seems 
to  be  very  near  the  supernatural  world  in  feeling  and 
sentiment ;  when  prophet,  poet,  and  priest,  are  syno- 
nymes ;  then  arises  its  most  profound  literature. 

By  a  profound  literature,  is  meant  one  that  addresses 
itself  to  the  most  profound  faculties  of  the  human  soul. 
The  so-called  polite  literature,  is  the  lightest  and  most 
unessential  product  of  the  human  mind.  It  is  the  work 
of  the  inferior  part  of  the  understanding,  deriving  little 
life  or  vigor  from  its  deepest  powers,  and  having  no  im¬ 
mediate  connection  with  its  highest  cultivation.  It 
occupies  the  attention  of  man  in  his  youthful  days, 
affording  an  ample  field  in  which  the  fancy  may  rove 
and  revel,  and  starting  some  of  the  superficial  life  of  the 
intellect ,  but  in  the  mature  and  meditative  part  of  his 
existence,  when  the  great  questions  relating  to  his  origin 
and  destiny  are  raised,  he  leaves  these  gay  and  pleasant 
studies  for  that  more  profound  literature  which  comes 
home  to  deeper  faculties  and  wants. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


39 


A  survey  of  literature  generally,  at  once  shows  that 
but  a  very  small  portion  of  it  is  worthy  to  be  called  pro¬ 
found.  How  very  little  of  the  vast  amount  which  has 
been  composed  by  the  literary  class,  addresses  itself  to 
the  primitive  faculties  of  the  human  soul!  The  greater 
part  merely  stimulates  curiosity,  exercises  the  fancy,  and 
perhaps  loads  the  memory.  Another  portion  externally 
polishes  and  adorns  the  mind.  It  is  only  a  very  small 
portion,  which  by  speaking  to  the  Reason  and  the  ra¬ 
tional  and  creative  Imagination,  and  rousing  into  full 
play  of  life  those  profound  powers,  ministers  strength, 
true  beauty,  and  true  culture  to  the  soul. 

Consider  for  a  moment  the  character  of  the  English 
literature  of  the  present  day.  I  do  not  now  refer  to  the 
dregs  and  off-scourings  which  are  doing  so  much  to  de¬ 
bauch  the  English  mind,  but  to  the  bloom  and  flower. 
And  I  ask  if  it  does  anything  more  for  the  scholar  than  to 
externally  adorn  and  embellish  his  education  ?  Has  it 
the  power  to  educate  ?  Does  it  have  a  strong  tendency 
to  develop  a  historical,  a  philosophical,  a  poetical,  or  ar¬ 
tistic  capability  if  it  lie  in  the  student  ?  Must  not  a 
more  profound  literature  be  called  upon  to  do  this,  and 
must  not  the  scholar  who  would  truly  develop  what  is  in 
him,  go  back  to  the  study  of  Homer  and  Plato ;  of 
Dante  ;  of  Shakspeare,  Bacon,  and  Milton  ?  If  he  con 
tents  himself  with  the  study  of  the  best  current  litera¬ 
ture,  will  he  do  anything  more  than  produce  a  refine¬ 
ment  destitute  of  life  ;  a  culture  without  vigor  ;  and  will 
he  himself  in  his  best  estate  be  anything  more  than  an 
intellectual  voluptuary,  utterly  impotent  and  without 
vivifying  influence  upon  letters  ? 

There  is  then  a  profound  portion  of  literature  speaking 
to  the  deeper  part  of  man,  from  which  he  is  to  derive  a 
profound  literary  cultivation.  A  brief  examination  will 


40  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

show  that  its  chief  characteristics  arise  from  its  being 
impregnated  by  theology  ;  not  necessarily  by  the  formal 
doctrines  of  theology,  but  by  its  finer  essence  and  spirit. 
Theology,  it  has  been  said,  is  the  science  of  the  supernat¬ 
ural  and  therefore  of  the  strictly  mysterious.  The  idea  of 
God,  which  constitutes  and  animates  the  science,  is  a 
true  mystery.  But  that  which  is  truly  mysterious  is 
truly  profound,  and  deepens  everything  coming  under  its 
influence.  Indeed  mystery,  in  the  philosophical  sense  of 
the  term,  is  the  author  of  all  great  qualities.  Sublim¬ 
ity,  Profundity,  Grandeur,  Magnificence,  Beauty,  can¬ 
not  exist  without  it.  Like  night,  it  induces  a  high  and 
solemn  mood,  and  is  the  parent  and  nurse  of  profound 
and  noble  thought.  That  literature  which  is  pervaded 
by  it,  becomes  deep-toned,  and  speaks  with  emphasis  to 
the  deeper  powers  of  man.  Even  when  there  is  but  an 
imperfect  permeation  by  this  influence ;  when  mystery 
is  not  fully  apprehended,  and  the  mind  is  not  completely 
under  its  power  ;  even  when  the  Poet  feels 

“  What  he  can  ne’er  express,  yet  cannot  all  conceal,” 

there  is  a  noble  inspiration  in  his  lines,  which,  with  all 
its  vagueness,  deepens  the  feelings  and  elevates  the  con¬ 
ceptions.  It  is  related  of  Fichte,  that  in  very  early  child¬ 
hood  he  would  stand  motionless  for  hours,  gazing  into 
the  distant  ether.*  As  such  he  is  a  symbol  of  the  soul 
which  is  but  imperfectly  possessed  by  that  mystery  which 
surrounds  every  rational  being.  Those  vague  yearn¬ 
ings  and  obscure  stirrings  of  the  boy’s  spirit,  as  with 
strained  eye  he  strove  to  penetrate  the  dark  depths 
of  infinite  space,  typify  the  workings  of  that  soul  which 
in  only  an  imperfect  degree  partakes  of  this  “  vision  and 


*  Fichte’s  Leben.I.  7. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


41 


faculty  divine.”  And  as  those  motions  in  this  youthful 
spirit  awaken  interest  in  the  observer,  betokening  as 
they  do  no  common  mood  and  tendency,  so  even  the 
vague  and  shadowy  musings  of  the  mind  which  is  but 
feebly  under  the  influence  of  mystery :  —  a  Novalis,  or  a 
Shelley, —  are  not  without  their  interest  and  elevation. 

But  when  a  genius  appears  in  the  history  of  a  nation’s 
literature,  who  sees  the  great  import  and  feels  the  full 
power  of  those  true  mysteries  which  are  the  subject  mat¬ 
ter  of  theological  science,  then  creations  appear  which 
exert  an  inspiring  influence  upon  all  after  ages,  and  by 
Their  profundity  and  power  betoken  that  they  are  com¬ 
posed  of  no  volatile  essence,  and  produced  by  no  super¬ 
ficial  mental  energy.  They  are  not  to  be  comprehended 
or  admired  at  a  glance,  it  is  true,  and  therefore  are  not 
the  favorites  of  the  falsely  educated  class,  but  ever 
remain  the  peculiar  property  and  delight  of  that  inner 
circle  of  literary  men  in  whom  culture  reaches  its  height 
of  excellence. 

It  may  appear  strange  to  attribute  the  noblest  charac¬ 
teristics  of  literature  to  the  mysteries  of  theology,  but  a 
philosophical  study  of  literature  convincingly  shows  that 
from  this  dark  unsightly  root  grows  “the  bright  con¬ 
summate  flower.”  It  is  the  spirit  of  this  solemn  and 
dark  domain,  which,  by  connecting  literature  with  the 
moral  and  mysterious  world,  and  by  giving  it  a  direct 
or  indirect  reference  to  the  deepest  and  most  serious 
relations  of  the  human  spirit,  renders  it  profound,  and 
raises  it  infinitely  above  the  mass  of  common  light  liter¬ 
ature. 

2.  This  same  influence  of  theology  imparts  that  earn - 
est  and  lofty  purpose  which  resides  in  the  best  literature. 
The  chief  reason  why  the  largest  portion  of  the  produc¬ 
tions  of  the  literary  class  contributes  nothing  to  true  cul* 

4* 


42 


THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

tivation,  and  is  destitute  of  the  highest  excellence,  is 
the  fact  that  it  is  not  animated  by  a  purpose.  The 
poet  composes  a  poem  with  no  specific  and  lofty  inten¬ 
tion  in  his  eye,  but  merely  to  give  vent  to  a  series  of  per¬ 
sonal  states  and  feelings.  He  writes  for  his  own  relief 
and  gratification,  not  realizing,  as  Milton  did,  that  “po¬ 
etic  abilities,  wheresoever  they  be  found,  are  the  inspired 
gift  of  God,  rarely  bestowed;  and  are  of  power  beside  the 
office  of  a  pulpit ,  to  imbreed  and  cherish  in  a  great  peo¬ 
ple  the  seeds  of  virtue  and  public  civility,”  and  should 
be  used  for  this  noble  purpose.  The  literary  man  gen¬ 
erally,  does  not  even  dream  that  he  is  obligated  to  work 
with  a  good  and  elevated  object  in  his  eye,  but  is 
exempt  from  the  universal  law  of  creation,  which  obli¬ 
gates  every  finite  spirit  to  live  and  labor  for  truth  and 
God. 

But  sin  always  takes  vengeance,  and  all  literature 
which  is  purposeless,  and  does  not  breathe  an  earnest 
spirit,  is  destitute  of  the  highest  excellence.  It  will  want 
the  solemnity,  the  enthusiasm,  the  glow,  the  grandeur, 
and  the  depth,  which  proceeds  only  from  a  lofty  and 
serious  intention  in  the  mind  of  the  author.  And  this 
purpose  can  dwell  only  in  the  mind  which  is  haunted  by 
the  higher  ideas  and  truths  of  supernaturalism.  It  is  in 
vain  for  the  literary  man  to  seek  his  inspiration  in  the 
earthly,  or  the  intellectual,  world.  He  must  derive  it 
from  the  heaven  of  heavens. 

Both  in  heathen  and  in  Christian  literature,  we  find 
the  noblest  productions  to  be  but  the  embodiment  of  a 
purpose  ;  and  the  purpose  is  always  intimately  connect¬ 
ed  with  the  moral  world.  The  Iliad  proposes  to  exhibit 
the  battle  of  heaven  and  earth,  of  gods  and  men,  united 
in  defence  of  the  rights  of  injured  hospitality.  This 
proposition  oervades  the  poem,  and  greatly  contributes 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


43 


to  invest  it  with  the  highest  attributes  of  literature.  The 
Grecian  drama  is  serious  and  awful  with  the  spirit  ol 
law  and  vengeance.  Its  high  motive ,  is  to  teach  all  those 
solemn  and  fearful  truths  regarding  justice  and  injustice 
which  constitute  the  law  written  on  the  heart,  and  are 
the  substance  of  the  universally  accusing  and  condemn¬ 
ing:  conscience  of  man.  Pagan  though  the  Greek  drama 
be,  yet  when  we  consider  the  loftiness  and  fixedness  of 
its  intention  to  bring:  before  the  mind  all  that  it  can  know 
of  the  supernatural  short  of  revelation,  we  hesitate  not  to 
say  that  it  is  immeasurably  ahead  of  much  of  so-called 
Christian  literature,  in  its  doctrine  and  influence,  as 
well  as  in  its  literary  characteristics.  As  the  scholar  con¬ 
templates  the  elevated  moral  character  running  through 
this  portion  of  Grecian  literature,  and  contrasts  it  with 
much  of  that  which  is  called  Christian  in  distinction  from 
heathen,  he  is  led  to  take  up  that  indignant  exclamation 
of  Wordsworth  uttered  in  another  connection, 

I’d  rather  be 

A  Pagan,  suckled  in  a  creed  outworn. 

Of  all  literary  men  who  have  written  since  the 
promulgation  of  the  Christian  religion,  Milton  seems  to 
have  most  strongly  felt  the  influences  of  theology,  and 
he  more  than  all  others  was  animated  and  strengthened 
by  a  high  moral  aim.  In  his  literary  works  he  distinctly 
and  intentionally  has  in  view  the  advancement  of  truth 
and  the  glory  of  God.  These  were  “  his  matins  duly, 
and  his  even-song.”  And  to  this  noble  purpose,  as  much 
as  to  his  magnificent  intellectual  powers,  are  owing  the 
profundity,  loftiness,  grandeur,  truth,  and  beauty,  which, 
in  the  literary  heavens  make  his  works  like  his  soul,  “  a 
star  that  dwells  apart.” 

We  live  in  an  age  when  theology  has  become  entirely 


44  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

dissevered  from  literature,  and  when  supernatural  sci* 
ence  forms  no  part  of  the  studies  of  the  cultivated 
class.  There  was  a  period  when  literary  men  devoted 
the  best  of  their  time  to  the  high  themes  of  religion,  and 
when  literature  took  a  deep  hue  and  tincture  from  theol¬ 
ogy.  There  was  a  period  when  such  a  man  as  Bacon 
wrote  theological  tracts  and  indited  most  solemn  and 
earnest  prayers ;  when  such  a  man  as  Raleigh  composed 
devotional  hymns ;  when  such  a  man  as  Spenser  sung 
of  the  virtues  and  the  vices ;  when  such  a  man  as  Shaks- 
peare  expended  the  best  of  his  poetic  and  dramatic 
power  in  exhibiting  the  working  of  the  moral  passions  ; 
and  when  such  a  man  as  Milton  made  the  fall  of  the  hu¬ 
man  soul  the  “  great  argument  ”  of  poetry.  There  was 
a  time  when  literature  was  in  a  very  great  degree  im¬ 
pregnated  by  theology.  But  that  time  has  gone  by,  and 
the  productions  of  later  ages  show,  by  their  ephemeral 
and  inefficient  character,  that  they  have  not  that  truly 
spiritual  element  which  makes  literature  ever  fresh  and 
invigorating.  Whatever  may  be  the  embellishment,  the 
charm,  and  the  fascination,  of  modern  literature,  for  the 
student  in  certain  t- rages  of  his  growth,  it  does  not  per¬ 
manently  rouse  and  enliven  like  the  old.  It  may  sat¬ 
isfy  the  wants  of  the  educated  man  for  a  time,  but  there 
does  come  a  period  in  the  history  of  every  mind  that  is 
truly  progressive  in  its  character,  when  it  will  not  satisfy, 
and  the  student  must  u  provide  a  manlier  diet.”  The 
mind  when  in  the  process  of  true  unfolding  cannot  be 
ultimately  cheated.  Wants,  which  in  the  first  stages  of 
its  development  were  dormant,  while  more  shallow  crav¬ 
ings  were  being  met  by  a  weak  aliment,  eventually  make 
themselves  felt,  and  send  the  subject  of  them  after  more 
substantial  food.  The  favorite  authors  of  the  earlier  pe¬ 
riods  of  education  are  thrown  aside  as  the  taste  becomes 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES, 


45 


more  severe,  the  sympathies  more  refined,  and  profounde\ 
feelings  are  awakened ;  the  circle  diminishes,  until  the 
scholar  finally  rests  content  with  those  few  writers  in 
every  literature,  who  speak  to  the  deeper  spirit,  because 
full  of  the  vigor  and  power  of  the  higher  world. 

The  student  while  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  may  not  dis¬ 
tinctly  know  whence  comes  the  charm  and  abiding  spell 
of  the  older  literature  ;  but  let  him  transfer  himself  into 
periods  of  national  existence  when  faith  in  the  super¬ 
natural  had  become  unbelief,  and  when  literary  men  had 
lost  the  solemn  and  earnest  spirit  of  their  predecessors, 
and  he  will  know  that  religion  is  the  life  of  literature,  as 
it  is  of  all  things  else.  He  will  discover  that  the  absence 
of  an  enlarging  and  elevating  influence  in  letters,  is  to 
be  attributed  to  the  absence  of  that  theological  element 
with  which  the  human  mind,  notwithstanding  the  corrup¬ 
tion  of  the  human  spirit,  has  a  quick  and  deep  affinity. 

I  have  thus,  gentlemen  of  the  societies,  spoken  of  the 
true  method  of  Theological  Studies,  and  of  their  great 
and  noble  influences  upon  education  and  literature.  If 
I  have  spoken  with  more  of  a  theological  tone  than  is 
usually  heard  upon  a  literary  festival  like  the  present 
occasion,  I  might  excuse  myself  by  simply  saying,  in  the 
language  of  Bacon,  that  every  man  is  a  debtor  to  his 
profession.  But  I  confess  to  a  most  sincere  and  earnest 
desire  of  awakening  in  the  minds  of  those  who  are  soon 
to  become  a  part  of  the  educated  class  of  the  land,  an 
interest  and  love  for  that  noblest  and  most  neglected  of 
the  sciences  :  —  theology.  This  science  has  come  to  be 
the  study  of  one  profession  alone,  and  of  one  that 
unhappily  includes  but  a  very  small  portion  of  the  edu¬ 
cated  class.  And  yet  in  the  depth  and  breadth  of  its 
relations,  as  well  as  in  the  importance  of  its  matter,  it  is 
the  science  of  the  sciences.  God  is  the  God  of  every 


46  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

man,  and  the  science  which  treats  of  Him  and  his  ways 
deeply  concerns  every  man,  and  especially  everyone  who 
in  any  degree  is  raised  above  the  common  level,  by  the 
opportunity  and  effort  to  cultivate  himself.  It  is  a  great 
error  to  suppose  that  theological  studies  should  be  the 
exclusive  pursuit  of  the  clergy,  and  that  the  remainder 
of  the  literary  class  in  the  state  should  feel  none  of  the 
enlargement  and  elevation  of  soul  arising  from  them.  — 
When  the  idea  of  a  perfect  commonwealth  shall  be  fully 
realized  —  if  it  ever  shall  be  on  earth  —  theology  will  be 
the  light  and  life  of  all  the  culture  and  knowledge  con¬ 
tained  in  it.  Its  invigorating  and  purifying  energy  will 
be  diffused  through  the  whole  class  of  literary  men,  and 
through  them  will  be  felt  to  the  uttermost  extremities  of 
the  body  politic.  All  other  sciences  will  be  illuminated 
and  vivified  by  it,  and  will  then  reach  that  point  of  per¬ 
fection  which  has  ever  been  in  the  eye  of  their  most 
genial  and  profound  votaries. 

For  a  knowledge  of  the  aims  of  the  most  gifted  and 
enthusiastic  students  of  science,  discloses  the  need  of  the 
influence  of  theology,  in  order  to  the  perfection  of  science, 
as  well  as  of  letters.  That  which  makes  Burke  one  of 
the  few  great  names  in  political  science,  is  the  solemn 
and  awful  view  he  had  of  law  as  strictly  supernatural  in 
its  essence  ;  of  law,  in  his  own  language,  as  u  prior  to  all 
our  devices,  and  prior  to  all  our  contrivances,  paramount 
to  all  our  ideas,  and  all  our  sensations,  antecedent  to  our 
very  existence,  by  which  we  are  knit  and  connected  in 
the  eternal  frame  of  the  universe,  out  of  which  we  cannot 
stir.”  *  It  was  his  high  aim  therefore  to  render  political 
science  religious  in  its  character,  and  to  found  govern¬ 
ment  upon  a  sacred  and  reverential  sentiment  towards 
law,  in  the  breasts  of  the  governed.  Politics  in  his  eye* 


*  Speech  in  the  impeachment  of  Hastings.  Works,  iii,  p.  327. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


4? 


and  government  in  his  view,  are  essentially  different 
from  the  same  things,  as  viewed  by  that  large  class  of 
political  men  who  do  not  appear  to  dream,  even,  that 
there  is  a  supernatural  world,  or  that  there  are  supernat¬ 
ural  sanctions  and  supports  to  government.  But  the 
speculative  views  regarding  politics  advanced  by  Burke 
will  never  be  practically  realized  among  the  nations,  until 
the  influence  of  the  high  themes  of  spiritual  theology  is 
felt  among  them,  and  political  science  will  not  be  a 
perfect  scheme,  until  constructed  in  the  light  and  by  the 
aid  of  theological  doctrine.  The  sanction,  the  sacredness, 
the  authority,  and  the  binding  power,  of  law,  as  the 
foundation  of  government  and  political  science,  for  which 
Burke  plead  so  eloquently,  come  from  the  supernatural 
world,  and  are  not  apprehensible  except  in  the  light  of 
that  science  which  treats  of  that  world.  The  fine  visions 
and  lofty  aspirations  of  Burke,  relative  to  government 
and  political  science,  depend  therefore  upon  the  practical 
and  theoretical  influence  of  theology  for  their  full  realiza¬ 
tion. 

Let  me  briefly  refer  to  another  instance,  in  which  we 
see  that  the  high  aims  of  a  most  profound  and  genial 
student  will  be  attained  only  under  the  influence  of  the 
science  of  the  supernatural.  It  has  been  the  high  endeavor 
of  Schelling  to  spiritualize  natural  science ;  to  strip 
nature  of  its  hard  forms,  and  by  piercing  beneath  the 
material,  to  behold  it  as  immaterial  ideas,  laws,  and 
forces.*  This  is  not  only  a  beautiful,  but  it  is  the  true, 
idea  of  nature  and  natural  science.  Schelling  however 
has  failed  to  realize  it  in  a  perfect  manner.  However 
great  may  be  his  mem  in  infusing  life  into  this  domain 


*  System  des  transcend.  Idealismus,  p.  5  For  a  full  exhibition  of  this 
method  of  natural  science,  see  Carus’s  Physiologie,  Erster  Theil. 


48 


THE  xMETHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 


of  knowledge,  and  in  overthrowing  the  mechanical  view 
of  nature,  he  has  not  constructed  his  system  so  as  to 
maintain  a  pure  theism,  and  therefore  when  viewed 
in  connection  with  the  true  system  of  the  universe,  with 
which  every  individual  science  must  harmonize,  its  falsity, 
in  the  great  whole  of  knowledge,  is  apparent.  And  the 
imperfection  of  this  system  is  owing,  first,  to  the  absence 
of  a  sharp  and  firm  line  of  distinction  between  the  natu¬ 
ral  and  the  supernatural,  and  secondly,  to  the  want  of 
that  protection  from  pantheism,  which  a  truly  profound 
philosopher  can  find  only  in  the  purely  supernatural  doc¬ 
trines  of  theology. 

It  is  not  true  then  that  the  theologian  by  profession  is 
alone  concerned  with  theology.  He  who  would  obtain 
correct  views  in  political  or  natural  science,  as  well  as 
he  who  would  be  a  mind  of  power  and  depth  in  the 
sphere  of  literature;  in  short,  the  student  generally;  has 
a  vital  interest  in  the  truths  of  supernatural  science. — 
And  it  is  this  conviction,  gentlemen,  which  I  would  fix 
and  deepen  in  your  minds.  Your  attention  might  have 
been  directed  to  some  more  popular  theme ;  to  some  one 
of  the  aspects  of  polite  literature,  present  or  hoped  for ; 
but  I  preferred  to  direct  your  thoughts  to  a  range  of 
neglected  but  noble  studies,  confident  that  if  any  per¬ 
manent  interest  should  be  thereby  awakened  in  your 
minds  towards  them,  a  substantial  benefit  would  be  con¬ 
ferred  upon  you.  I  would  then,  not  with  the  feigned 
earnestness  which  too  generally  characterizes  appeals 
upon  such  an  occasion  as  the  present,  but  with  all  the 
solemn  earnestness  of  the  Sabbath,  urge  you  to  the  seri¬ 
ous  pursuit  of  theological  studies.  It  matters  not,  which 
may  be  the  particular  field  in  which  you  are  to  labor  as 
educated  men  ;  the  influence  of  these  studies  is  elevating 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STl'DIES. 


49 


and  enlarging  in  any  field,  and  upon  all  the  public  pro* 
fessions. 

If  the  Law  is  to  be  the  special  object  of  your  future 
study,  your  idea  of  human  law  will  be  purified  and 
corrected  by  your  study  of  the  divine  law,  and  the  general 
spirit  and  bearing  of  your  practice  will  be  elevated  by 
those  high  studies  which,  more  than  any  others,  generate 
high  principles  of  action. 

Should  you  enter  the  arena  of  Political  life,  the  influ- 
ence  of  these  studies  will  be  most  salutary.  In  this 
sphere,  a  man  at  the  present  day  needs  a  double  portion 
of  pure  and  lofty  principle,  and  should  anxiously  place 
himself  under  the  most  select  influences.  If  the  serious 
political  spirit  of  Washington,  and  Jay,  and  Madison,  is 
ever  again  to  actuate  our  politics,  it  will  be  only  through 
the  return  of  that  reverence  for  law,  as  flowing  from  a 
higher  reality  than  the  naturally  corrupt  will  of  man,  and 
that  faith  in  government  as  having  its  ground  and  sanc¬ 
tions  in  the  supernatural  and  religious  world,  which 
characterized  them.  If  politics  is  ever  to  cease  to  be  a 
game,  and  is  ever  again  to  be  considered  as  one  of  the 
solemn  interests  pertaining  to  human  existence,  it  will  be 
only  when  our  young  men  enter  this  field  under  the 
influence  of  studies,  and  a  discipline,  that  purge  away 
low  and  sordid  views,  and  induce  a  serious  integrity  and 
a  self-sacrificing  patriotism.  If  then  you  \youkl  sustain 
a  relation  to  the  government  of  your  country,  honorable 
to  yourselves,  and  beneficial  to  it,  imbue  your  minds  and 
baptize  your  views  and  opinions  with  the  theological 
spirit.  Then  you  will  be  a  statesman  in  the  old  and  best 
sense  of  the  word ;  not  a  mere  office  holder  or  seeker  of 
office ;  but  one  in  whom  the  great  idea  of  the  state 
resides  and  lives,  and  who  by  its  indwelling  power  is  fui? 

5 


£0  THE  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE, 

of  the  patriotic  sentiment,  and  inspired  by  the  nobh 
spirit  of  allegiance  to  government  and  country.* 

Finally,  if  you  are  to  be  one  of  the  ministers  and  in¬ 
terpreters  of  Nature,  or  one  who  devotes  himself  to  the 
cultivation  of  Fine  Letters,  the  influence  of  these  stud¬ 
ies  will  be  great  and  valuable.  In  the  light  of  the  super¬ 
natural,  you  will  best  interpret  nature,  and  under  the 
power  of  theology,  you  will  be  best  enabled  to  contribute 
a  profound  and  lofty  addition  to  literature. 

No  one  who  watches  the  signs  of  the  times,  and 
especially  the  rapid  and  dangerous  change  now  going 
on  in  the  public  sentiment  of  our  country  relative  to  the 
foundations  of  religion,  government,  and  society,  can 
help  feeling  that  under  Providence,  very  much  is  depend¬ 
ing  upon  the  principles  and  spirit  which  the  educated 
young  men  take  out  with  them  into  active  life.  Bacon, 
long  ago,  said  that  the  principles  of  the  young  men  of  a 
nation  decided  its  destiny,  and  the  course  of  human 
events  since  his  day  has  verified  his  assertion.  It  is  cer¬ 
tainly  true  in  its  fullest  sense  of  this  nation  and  its 
young  men.  Unless  an  upbuilding  and  establishing  in¬ 
fluence  proceeds  from  the  educated  class,  the  disorganiz¬ 
ing  elements  which  are  already  in  a  furious  fermentation 
in  society  will  even 
fixed  in  it ;  and  unless  this  class  feel  some  stronger  and 
purer  influence  than  that  of  this  world ;  unless  it  feels 
the  power  of  the  objects  and  principles  of  the  other 
world ;  it  will  hasten  rather  than  counteract  the  coming 
dissolution.  Merely  human  culture,  and  merely  natural 


tually  dissolve  all  that  is  solid  and 


*  Das  Wort  Staatsmann  ist  liier  in  dem  Sinn  des  antiken  iroXiriKbs 
genommen,  und  es  soli  dabei  weniger  daran  gedacht  werden,  dasz  einer 
etvvas  bestimmtes  im  Staat  zu  verrichten  hat,  was  vdllig  zufallig  ist,  als  dasz 
einer  vorzugsweise  in  der  Idee  des  Staats  lebt.  Schleiermacher.  Reden. 

p.  28. 


OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 


51 


science,  cannot  educe  that  moral  weight  and  force  in  the 
cultivated  class,  without  which  the  state  cannot  long 
hold  together.  These  must  come  from  the  general  influ¬ 
ence  of  theological  science  upon  the  minds  of  the  edu¬ 
cated  ;  from  the  infusion  into  culture  of  that  reverence 
for  God,  and  that  purifying  insight  into  supernatural 
truth,  without  which  culture  becomes  skeptical  and  shal¬ 
low,  powerless  for  good  and  all-powerful  for  evil. 

In  closing,  permit  me  to  remind  you  that  you  need  the 
influence  of  these  studies  personally,  without  reference 
to  vour  relations  to  the  world  at  lame.  You  need  them 

%/  CJ 

in  order  to  attain  the  true  end  of  vour  own  existence.  liow- 
ever  sedulouslv  you  may  cultivate  yourselves  in  other 
respects,  you  will  not  be  cultivated  for  eternity,  without 
the  study  and  vital  knowledge  of  theology.  It  has  been 
foreign  to  the  main  drift  of  my  discourse,  and  to  the 
occasion,  to  speak  of  that  deepest,  that  saving,  knowl¬ 
edge  of  supernatural  religion  which  proceeds  from  being 
taught  by  the  Eternal  Spirit.  I  have  spoken  only  of  the 
general  and  common  influence  of  the  doctrines  of  purely 
supernatural,  in  distinction  from  those  of  merely  natural, 
theology.  They  have  a  great  power  in  themselves,  apart 
from  their  special  vivification  by  the  Divine  Spirit. 
This  is  worthy  of  being  sought  after,  and  to  this  I  have 
urged  you.  But  if  you  would  feel  the  full  power  of  the¬ 
ology  ;  if  you  would  secure  the  freest,  fairest,  and  holiest 
development  of  your  spirits  ;  if  you  would  accomplish  the 
very  utmost  of  which  you  are  capable,  for  your  country 
and  for  man,  in  the  sphere  in  which  you  shall  be  called 
to  labor  ;  if  you  would  secure  a  strength  which  you  will 
soon  find  you  need  in  the  struggle  into  which  you  are 
about  to  enter:  —  the  struggle  with  the  real  world,  and 
the  still  fiercer  struggle  with  your  real  selves  ;  then 
study  theology  experimentally.  The  discipline  to  which 


52  METHOD,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF  THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES. 

yon  have  been  subjected  in  the  course  of  your  training 
in  this  University,  so  far  as  human  influence  can  do  so, 
leads  and  urges  you  in  this  direction ;  for  it  is  the  plan 
and  work  of  one  of  those  elect  and  superior  spirits  (few 
and  rare  in  our  earthly  race)  who  have  an  instinctive 
and  irresistible  tendency  to  the  Supernatural.*  This  has 
been  the  tendency  of  your  training,  and  if  you  will  only 
surrender  yourselves  to  this  tendency,  heightened  and 
made  effectual  by  special  divine  influences,  as  it  will  be 
for  every  scholar  who  seeks  them  with  a  solemn  spirit, 
you  will  fully  realize  the  idea  of  a  perfect  education. 


*  The  allusion  is  to  the  late  President  Marsh. 


TIIE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF  THE 
HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


AN  INAUGURAL  DISCOURSE  DELIVERED  IN  ANDOVER  THEOLOGICAL 

SEMINARY,  FEB.  15,  1854. 


The  purpose  of  an  Inaugural  Discourse  is,  to  give  a 
correct  and  weighty  impression  of  the  importance  of 
some  particular  department  of  knowledge.  Provided  the 
term  be  employed  in  the  technical  sense  of  Aristotle  and 
Quinctilian,  the  Inaugural  is  a  demonstrative  oration, 
the  aim  of  which  is  to  justify  the  existence  of  a  specific 
professorship,  and  to  magnify  the  specific  discipline 
which  it  imparts.  It  must,  consequently,  be  the  general 
object  of  the  present  discourse  to  praise  the  department, 
and  recommend  the  study,  of  History. 

As  we  enter  upon  the  field  which  opens  out  before  us, 
we  are  bewildered  by  its  immense  expanse.  The  whole 
hemisphere  overwhelms  the  eye.  The  riches  of  the  sub¬ 
ject  embarrass  the  discussion.  For  this  science  is  the 
most  comprehensive  of  all  departments  of  human  knowl¬ 
edge.  In  its  unrestricted  and  broad  signification,  it  in¬ 
cludes  all  other  branches  of  human  inquiry.  Everything 
in  existence  has  a  history,  though  it  may  not  have  a  phi¬ 
losophy,  or  a  poetry ;  and,  therefore,  history  covers  and 

(53) 


54 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

pervades  and  enfolds  all  things  as  the  atmosphere  does 
the  globe.  Its  subject-matter  is  all  that  man  has  thought, 
felt,  and  done,  and  the  line  of  Schiller  is  true  even  if 
taken  in  its  literal  sense :  the  final  judgment  is  the  his¬ 
tory  of  the  world.* 

If  it  were  desirable  to  bring  the  whole  encyclopaedia  of 
human  knowledge  under  a  single  term,  certainly  history 
would  be  chosen  as  the  most  comprehensive  and  elastic 
of  all.  And  if  we  consider  the  mental  qualifications  re¬ 
quired  for  its  production,  the  department  whose  nature 
and  claims  we  are  considering,  still  upholds  its  superi¬ 
ority,  in  regard  to  universality  and  comprehensiveness. 
The  historic  talent  is  inclusive  of  all  other  talents.  The 
depth  of  the  philosopher,  the  truthfulness  and  solemnity 
of  the  theologian,  the  dramatic  and  imaginative  power 
of  the  poet,  are  all  necessary  to  the  perfect  historian,  and 
would  be  found  in  him,  at  their  height  of  excellence,  did 
such  a  being  exist.  For  it  has  been  truly  said,  that  we 
shall  sooner  see  a  perfect  philosophy,  or  a  perfect  poem, 
than  a  perfect  history. 

We  shall,  therefore,  best  succeed  in  imparting  unity 
to  the  discourse  of  an  hour,  and  in  making  a  single  and, 
therefore,  stronger  impression,  by  restraining  that  career 
which  the  mind  is  tempted  to  make  over  the  whole  of 
this  ocean-like  arena,  and  confining  our  attention  to  a 
single  theme. 

It  will  be  our  purpose,  then,  to  speak, 

First ,  Of  that  peculiar  spirit  imparted  to  the  mind  of 
an  educated  man,  by  historical  studies,  which  may  be 
denominated  the  historic  spirit ;  and 

Secondly,  Of  its  influence  upon  the  theologian. 

The  historic  spirit  may  be  defined  to  be :  the  spirit  of 


*  Resignation. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


55 


the  race  as  distinguished  from  that  of  the  individual,  and 
of  all  time  as  distinguished  from  that  of  one  age. 

We  here  assume  that  the  race  is  as  much  a  reality  as 
the  individual ;  for  this  is  not  the  time  nor  place,  even  if 
the  ability  were  possessed,  to  reopen  and  reargue  that 
great  question  which  once  divided  the  philosophic  world 
into  two  grand  divisions.  We  assume  the  reality  of 
both  ideas.  We  postulate  the  real  and  distinct,  though 
undivided,  being  of  the  common  humanity  and  the  par¬ 
ticular  individuality.  We  are  unable,  with  the  Nominal¬ 
ist,  to  regard  the  former  as  the  mere  generalization  of 
the  latter.  The  race  is  more  than  an  aggregate  of  sepa¬ 
rate  individualities.  History  is  more  than  a  collection 
of  single  biographies,  as  the  national  debt  is  more  than 
the  sum  of  individual  liabilities.  Side  by  side,  in  one  and 
the  same  subject;  in  every  particular  human  person  ;  ex¬ 
ist  the  common  humanity  with  its  universal  instincts  and 

%/ 

tendencies,  and  the  individuality  with  its  particular  in¬ 
terests  and  feelings.  The  two  often  come  into  conflict 
with  an  earnestness,  and  at  times  in  the  epic  of  history 
with  a  terrible  grandeur,  that  indicates  that  neither  of 
them  is  an  abstraction ;  that  both  are  solid  with  the  sub¬ 
stance  of  an  actual  being,  and  throb  with  the  pulses  of 

an  intense  vitality. 

•/ 

The  difference  between,  history  and  biography  involves 
the  distinct  entity  and 
individual.  Biography  is  the  account  of  the  peculiari¬ 
ties  of  the  single  person  disconnected  from  the  species, 
and  is  properly  concerned  only  with  that  which  is  char¬ 
acteristic  of  him  as  an  isolated  individual.  But  that 
which  is  national  and  philanthropic  in  his  nature  ;  that 
which  is  social  and  political  in  his  conduct  and  career; 
all  that  links  him  with  his  species  and  constitutes  a  part 
of  the  development  of  man  on  the  globe ;  all  this  is  his- 


reality  of  both  the  race  and  the 


56  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

torical  and  not  biographic.  Speaking  generally  in  or¬ 
der  to  speak  briefly,  all  that  activity  which  springs  up 
out  of  the  pure  individualism  of  the  person,  makes  up 
the  charm  and  entertainment  of  biography,  and  all  that 
activity  which  originates  in  the  humanity  of  the  person 
furnishes  the  matter  and  the  grandeur  of  history. 

History,  then,  is  the  story  of  the  race.  It  is  the  exhi¬ 
bition  of  the  common  generic  nature  of  man  as  this  is 
manifested  in  that  great  series  of  individuals  which  is 
crowding  on,  one  after  another,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea, 
through  the  ages  and  generations  of  time.  The  historic 
muse  omits  and  rejects  everything  in  this  march  and 
movement  of  human  beings  that  is  peculiar  to  them  as 
selfish  units ;  everything  that  has  interest  for  the  man, 
but  none  for  mankind  ;  and  inscribes  upon  her  tablet 
only  that  which  springs  out  of  the  common  humanity, 
and  hence  has  interest  for  all  men  and  all  time. 

History,  therefore,  is  continuous  in  its  nature.  It  is  so 
because  its  subject-matter  is  a  continuity.  This  common 
human  nature  is  in  the  process  of  continuous  evolution, 
and  the  wounded  snake  drags  its  slow  length  along  down 
the  ages  and  generations.  No  single  individual;  no  single 
age  or  generation  ;  no  single  nationality,  however  rich  and 
capacious  ;  shows  the  whole  of  man,  and  so  puts  a  stop 
to  human  development.  The  time  will,  indeed,  come, 
and  the  generation  and  the  single  man,  will  one  day  be, 
in  whom  the  entire  exhibition  will  close.  The  number 
of  individuals  in  the  human  race  is  predetermined  and 
fixed  by  Him  who  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning.  But 
until  the  end  of  the  series  comes,  the  development  must 
go  on  continuously,  and  the  history  of  it,  must  be  con¬ 
tinuous  also.  It  must  be  linked  with  all  that  has  gone 
before ;  it  must  be  linked  with  all  that  is  yet  to  come. 
As  it  requires  the  whole  series  of  individuals,  in  Older 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


57 


to  a  complete  manifestation  of  the  species,  so  it  requires 
the  whole  series  of  ages  and  periods,  in  order  to  an 
entire  account  of  it. 

But  while  history  is  thus  continuous  in  its  nature,  par¬ 
adoxical  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  at  the  same  time  complete 
in  its  spirit.  Observe  that  we  are  speaking  of  the  ab¬ 
stract  and  ideal  character  of  the  science  ;  of  that  quality 
by  which  it  differs  from  other  branches  of  knowledge. 
We  are  not  speaking  of  any  one  particular  narrative  that 
has  actually  been  composed,  or  of  all  put  together.  History 
as  actually  written  is  not  the  account  of  a  completed  pro¬ 
cess,  because,  as  we  have  just  said,  the  development  is 
still  going  on.  Still,  the  tendency  of  the  department  is 
to  a  conclusion.  History  looks  to  a  winding  up.  We 
may  say  of  it,  as  Bacon  says  of  unfulfilled  prophecies : 
“  though  not  fulfilled  punctually  and  at  once,  it  hath  a 
springing  and  germinant  accomplishment  through  many 
ages.”  It  contains  and  defines  general  tendencies ;  it  in¬ 
timates,  at  every  point  of  the  line,  a  final  consummation. 
The  historical  processes  that  have  actually  taken  place, 
all  point  at,  and  join  on  upon,  the  future  processes  that 
are  to  be  homogeneous  with  them.  That  very  con¬ 
tinuity  in  the  nature  of  this  science,  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  results  in  this  completeness,  or  tendency  to  a 
conclusion,  in  its  spirit.  Like  a  growing  plant,  we  know 
what  it  will  come  to,  though  the  growth  is  not  ended. 
For  it  is  characteristic  of  an  evolution,  provided  it  is  a 
genuine  one,  that  seize  it  when  you  will,  and  observe  it 
at  any  point  you  please,  you  virtually  seize  the  whole  ; 
you  observe  it  all.  Each  particular  section  of  a  develop¬ 
ment  exhibits  the  qualities  of  the  whole  process,  and  the 
organic  part  contemplated  by  itself  throbs  with  the  gen¬ 
eral  life.  Hence  it  is  that  each  particular  history  ;  of  a 
nation,  or  an  age,  or  a  form  of  government,  or  a  school 


58 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

of  philosophy,  or  a  Christian  doctrine  ;  when  conceived 
in  the  spirit  of  history,  wears  a  finished  aspect,  and  sounds 
a  full  and  fundamental  tone.  And  hence  the  proverb  : 
man  is  the  same  in  all  ages,  and  history  is  the  repetition 
of  the  same  lessons. 

So  universal  and  virtually  complete  in  its  spirit  is  this 
science,  that  a  distinguished  modern  philosopher  has  as¬ 
serted  that  it  may  become  a  branch  of  a  priori  knowl¬ 
edge,  and  that  it  actually  does  become  such  in  propor¬ 
tion  as  it  becomes  philosophic.  Being  the  account,  not 
of  a  dislocation,  but  of  a  development,  and  this  of  one 
race ;  being  the  exhibition  of  the  unfolding  of  one  single 
idea  of  the  Divine  mind ;  the  history  of  the  world,  he 
contends,  might  be  written  beforehand  by  any  mind  that 
is  master  of  the  idea  lying  at  the  bottom  of  it.  The 
whole  course  and  career  of  the  world,  is  predetermined 
by  its  plan,  and  supposing  this  to  be  known,  the  histo¬ 
rian  is  more  than  “  the  prophet  looking  backward,”  as 
Schlegel  calls  him  ;  he  is  the  literal  prophet.  He  does 
not  merely  inferentially  foretell,  by  looking  back  into  the 
past,  but  he  sees  the  whole  past  and  future  simultaneously 
present  in  the  Divine  idea  of  the  world,  of  which  by  the 
hypothesis  he  is  perfectly  possessed. 

This  philosopher  believed  in  the  possibility  of  such  an 
absolutely  perfect  and  d  priori  history,  because  he  taught 
that  the  mind  of  man  and  the  mind  of  God  are  one 
universal  mind,  and  that  the  entire  knowledge  of  the  one 
may  consequently  be  possessed  by  the  other.  While, 
however,  the  philosopher  erred  fatally  in  supposing  that 
any  being  but  God  the  Creator,  can  be  thus  perfectly 
possessed  of  the  organic  idea  of  the  world,  or  that  man 
can  come  into  an  approximate  possession  of  it  except  as 
it  is  revealed  to  him  by  the  Supreme  mind,  in  providence 
and  revelation,  we  must  yet  admit  that  the  world  is  con- 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


59 


stracted  according  to  such  an  idea  or  plan,  and  that  foi 
this  reason,  coherence,  completeness,  and  universality, 
are  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  its  development. 

While,  therefore,  we  deny  that  history  as  actually 
written,  or  as  it  shall  be,  comes  up  to  this  absolute  and 
metaphysical  perfection,  it  would  be  folly  to  deny  that  it 
has  made  any  approximation  towards  it,  or  that  it  will 
make  still  more.  So  far  as  the  account  has  been  com¬ 
posed  under  the  guiding  light  of  this  divine  idea,  which 
is  manifesting  itself  in  the  affairs  of  men  ;  so  far,  in  other 
words,  as  it  has  been  written  in  the  light  of  providence 
and  revelation ;  it  has  been  composed  with  truth,  and 
depth,  and  power.  Historians  have  been  successful  in 
gathering  the  lessons  and  solving  the  problems  of  their 
science  in  proportion  as  they  have  recognized  a  provi¬ 
dential  plan  in  the  career  of  the  world,  and  have  had 
some  clear  apprehension  of  it.  The  most  successful  par¬ 
ticular  narratives  seem  to  be  parts  of  a  greater  whole.  — 
They  have  an  easy  reference  to  general  history  ;  evidently 
belong  to  it ;  evidently  were  written  in  its  comprehensive 
spirit  and  by  its  broad  lights.  So  much  does  this  science 
abhor  a  scattering,  isolating,  and  fragmentary,  method  of 
treating  the  subject-matter  belonging  to  it,  that  those 
histories  which  have  been  composed  without  any  historic 
feeling ;  with  no  reference  to  the  Divine  plan  and  no 
connection  with  the  universe ;  are  the  most  diy  and  life¬ 
less  productions  in  literature.  Disconnection,  and  the 
absence  of  a  unifying  principle,  are  more  marked,  and 
more  painfully  felt,  in  historical  composition,  than  in  any 
other  species  of  literature.  Even  when  the  account  is 
that  of  a  brief  period,  or  mere  point,  as  it  were,  in  univer¬ 
sal  space,  the  mind  demands  that  it  be  rounded  and 
finished  in  itself ;  that  it  exhibit,  in  little,  that  same  com* 


60  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

plete  and  coherent  process,  which  is  going  on  more 
grandly,  on  the  wider  arena  of  the  world  at  large. 

History,  then,  is  the  exhibition  of  the  species.  Its 
lessons  may  be  relied  upon  as  the  conclusions  to  which 
the  human  race  have  come.  In  these  historic  lessons,  the 
narrowness  of  individual  and  local  opinions  has  been 
exchanged  for  the  breadth  and  compass  of  public  and 
common  sentiments.  The  errors  to  which  the  single 
mind ;  the  isolated  unit,  as  distinguished  from  the  organic 
unity  ;  is  exposed,  are  corrected  by  the  sceptical  and  criti¬ 
cal  processes  of  the  general  mind. 

What,  for  illustration,  is  its  teaching  in  regard  to  the 
presence  and  relative  proportions  in  a  political  constitu¬ 
tion  of  the  two  opposite  elements,  permanence  and  pro¬ 
gression  ?  Will  not  the  judgment,  in  regard  to  this 
vexed  question,  that  is  formed  on  historic  grounds,  be,  to 
say  the  least,  safer  and  truer,  than  that  formed  upon  the 
scanty  experience  of  an  individual  man  ?  Will  not  the 
decision  of  one  who  has  made  up  his  mind  after  a 
thoughtful  study  of  the  ancient  tyrannies  and  republics 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  of  the  republican  states  of  Italy  in 
the  middle  ages,  of  the  politics  of  Europe  since  the  for¬ 
mation  of  its  modern  state-system,  be  nearer  the  real 
truth  than  that  of  a  pledged  and  zealous  partisan,  on  either 
side  of  the  question  ;  than  that  of  the  ancient  Cleon  or 
Coriolanus  ;  than  that  of  the  modern  Rousseau  or  Filmer  ? 
And  why  will  it  be  nearer  the  truth  ?  Not  merely 
because  these  men  were  earnest  and  zealous.  Ardor 
and  zeal  are  well  in  their  place.  But  because  these 
minds  were  individual  and  local ;  because  they  were  not 
historic  and  general  in  views  and  opinions. 

Take  another  illustration  from  the  department  of  phi¬ 
losophy.  great  variety  of  theories  have  been  projected 
respecting  the  nature  and  operations  of  the  human  mind 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


61 


so  that  it  becomes  difficult  for  the  bewildered  inquirer  to 
know  which  he  shall  adopt.  But  will  he  run  the  hazard 
of  fundamental  error,  if  he  assumes  that  that  theory  is 
the  truth,  so  far  as  truth  has  been  reached  in  this  domain, 
which  he  finds  substantially  present  in  the  philosophic 
mind  in  all  ages?  if  he  concludes  that  the  historic  pffi 
losophy  is  the  true  philosophy  ?  And  will  it  be  safe  for 
the  individual  to  set  up  in  this  department,  or  in  the  still 
higher  one  of  religion,  doctrines  which  have  either  never 
entered  the  human  mind  before,  or,  if  they  have,  have 
been  onlv  transient  residents  ? 

The  fact  is,  no  one  individual  mind  is  capable  of 
accomplishing,  alone  and  by  itself,  what  the  race  is  des¬ 
tined  to  accomplish  only  in  the  slow  revolution  of  its 
cycle  of  existence.  It  is  not  by  the  thought  of  any  one 
individual,  though  he  were  as  profound  as  Plato  and  as 
intuitive  as  Shakspeare,  that  truth  is  to  obtain  an  exhaus¬ 
tive  manifestation.  The  whole  race  is  to  try  its  power, 
and,  in  the  end,  or  rather  at  every  point  in  the  endless 
career,  is  to  acknowledge  that  the  absolute  is  not  yet 
fully  known ;  that  the  knowledge  of  man  is  still  at  an 
infinite  distance  from  that  of  God.  Much  has  been  said, 
and  still  is,  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  ;  and  extravagant 
expectations  have  been  formed  in  regard  to  its  insight 
into  truth  and  its  power  of  applying  it  for  the  progress 
of  the  species.  But  a  single  age  is  merely  an  individual 
of  larger  growth.  There  is  always  something  particular, 
something  local,  something  temporary,  in  every  age,  and 
we  must  not  look  here  for  the  generic  and  universal  any 
more  than  in  the  notions  of  the  individual  man.  No  age 
is  historic,  in  and  by  itself.  Like  the  individual,  it  only 
contributes  its  portion  of  investigation  and  opinion,  to 
the  sum  total  of  material  which  is  to  undergo  the  test, 
not  of  an  age,  but  of  the  ages. 


62  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

Considerations  like  these  go  to  show,  that  there  is  in 
that  which  is  properly  historic,  nothing  partial,  nothing 
defective,  nothing  one-sided.  It  is  the  individual  which 
has  these  characteristics  ;  and  only  in  proportion  as  the 
individual  man  becomes  historic  in  his  views,  opinions 
and  impressions ;  only  as  his  culture  takes  on  this  large 
and  catholic  spirit,  does  he  become  truly  educated.  It  is 
the  sentiment  of  mankind  at  large,  it  is  the  opinion  of  the 
race,  which  is  to  be  accepted  as  truth.  When,  therefore, 
the  mind  of  the  student,  in  the  course  of  its  education,  is 
subjected  to  the  full  and  legitimate  influence  of  historical 
studies,  it  is  subjected  to  a  rectifying  influence.  The 
individual  eye  is  purged,  so  that  it  sees  through  a  crys¬ 
talline  medium.  That  darkening,  distorting  matter, 
composing  oftentimes  the  idiosyncracy  rather  than  the 
individuality  of  the  intellect,  is  drained  off. 

Having  thus  briefly  discussed  the  nature  of  the  his¬ 
toric  spirit  by  a  reference  to  the  abstract  nature  of  the 
science  itself,  let  us  now  seek  to  obtain  a  more  concrete 
and  lively  knowledge  of  it,  by  looking  at  some  of  its 
actual  influences  upon  the  student.  Let  us  specify  some 
of  the  characteristics  of  the  historical  mind. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  historical  mind  is  both  reverent 
and  vigilant. 

The  study  of  all  the  past  raises  the  intellect  to  a  loftier 
eminence  than  that  occupied  by  the  student  of  the  present; 
the  man  of  the  time.  The  vision  of  the  latter  is  limited 
by  his  own  narrow  horizon,  while  that  of  the  former  goes 
round  the  globe.  As  a  consequence,  the  historic  mind  is 
impressed  with  the  vastness  of  truth.  It  knows  that  it 
is  too  vast  to  be  all  known  by  a  single  mind,  or  a  single 
age ;  too  immense  to  be  taken  in  at  a  single  glance, 
much  less  to  be  stated  in  a  single  proposition.  Histori- 
studies  have,  moreover,  made  it  aware  of  the  fact  that 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


63 

truth  is  modified  by  passing  through  a  variety  of  minds  ; 
that  each  form  taken  by  itself  is  imperfect,  and  that,  in 
some  instances  at  least,  all  forms  put  together  do  not 
constitute  a  perfect  manifestation  of  the  “  daughter  of 
time.”  The  posture  and  bearing  of  such  a  mind,  there¬ 
fore,  towards  all  truth,  be  it  human  or  divine,  is  at  once 
reverent  and  vigilant.  It  is  seriously  impressed  by  the 
immensity  of  the  field  of  knowledge,  and  at  the  same 
time  is  adventurous  and  enterprising  in  ranging  over  it. 
For  it  was  when  the  human  imagination  was  most 
impressed  by  the  vastness  of  the  globe,  that  the  spirit  of 
enterprise  and  adventure  was  most  rife  and  successful. 
Before  the  minds  of  Columbus  and  De  Gama,  before  the 
imagination  of  the  Northmen  and  the  early  English 
navigators,  space  stretched  away  westward  and  south¬ 
ward  like  the  spaces  of  astronomy,  and  was  invested 
with  the  awfulness  and  grandeur  of  the  spaces  of  the 
Miltonic  Pandaemonium.  Yet  this  sense  of  space,  this 
mysterious  consciousness  of  a  vaster  world,  was  the  very 
stimulation  of  the  navigator ;  the  direct  cause  of  all 
modern  geographical  discovery.  The  merely  individual 
mind,  on  the  contrary,  seeing  but  one  form  of  truth,  or, 
at  most,  but  one  form  at  a  time,  is  apt  to  take  this 
meagre  exhibition  for  the  full  reality,  and  to  suppose  that 
it  has  reached  the  summit  of  knowledge.  It  is  self-satis¬ 
fied  and  therefore  irreverent.  It  is  disposed  to  rest  in 
present  acquisitions  and  therefore  is  neither  vigilant  nor 
enterprising. 

II.  And  this  naturally  suggests  the  second  characteris¬ 
tic  of  the  historical  mind :  its  productiveness  and  origi¬ 
nality. 

Such  a  mind  is  open  to  truth.  The  first  condition  to 
the  advancement  of  learning  is  fulfilled  by  it ;  for  it  is 
the  fine  remark  of  Bacon,  that  the  kingdom  of  science- 


64 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

like  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  is  open  only  to  the  child; 
only  to  the  reverent,  recipient,  and  docile,  understanding. 
Perhaps  nothing  contributes  more  to  hinder  the  progress 
of  truth  than  self-satisfied  ignorance  of  what  the  human 
mind  has  already  achieved.  The  a^e  that  isolates  itself 
from  the  rest  of  the  race  and  settles  down  upon  itself, 
will  accomplish  but  little  towards  the  development  of 
man  or  of  truth.  The  individual  who  neglects  to  make 
himself  acquainted  with  the  history  of  men  and  of  opin¬ 
ions,  though  he  may  be  an  intense  man  within  a  very 
narrow  circumference,  will  make  no  real  advance  and  no 
new  discoveries.  Even  the  ardor  and  zealous  energy, 
often  exhibited  by  such  a  mind,  and,  we  may  say,  char¬ 
acteristic  of  it,  contribute  rather  to  its  growing  ignorance, 
than  its  growing  enlightenment.  For  it  is  the  ardor  of  a 
mind  exclusively  occupied  with  its  own  peculiar  notions. 
Its  zeal  is  begotten  by  individual  peculiarities,  and  expen¬ 
ded  upon  them.  Having  no  humble  sense  of  its  own 
limited  ability,  in  comparison  with  the  vastness  of  truth, 
or  even  in  comparison  with  the  power  of  the  universal 
human  mind,  it  closes  itself  against  the  great  world  of 
the  past,  and,  as  a  penalty  for  this,  hears  but  few  of  the 
deeper  tones  of  the  “  many  voiced  present.”  In  the 
midst  of  colors  it  is  blind ;  in  the  midst  of  sounds  it  is 
deaf. 

That  mind,  on  the  contrary,  which  is  imbued  with  the 
enterprising  spirit  of  history,  contributes  to  the  progress 
of  truth  and  knowledge  among  men,  by  entering  into  the 
great  process  of  inquiry  and  discovery  which  the  race  as 
such  has  begun  and  is  carrying  on.  It  moves  onward 
with  fellow-minds,  in  the  line  of  a  preceding  advance, 
and  consequently  receives  impulse  from  all  the  movement 
and  momentum  of  the  past.  It  joins  on  upon  the  truth 
which  has  actually  been  unfolded,  and  is  thereby  enabled 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


65 


to  make  a  positive  and  valuable  addition  to  the  existing 
knowledge  of  the  human  race. 

For  the  educated  man,  above  all  men,  should  see  and 
constantly  remember,  that  progress  in  the  intellectual 
world,  does  not  imply  the  discovery  of  truth  absolutely  new; 
of  truth  of  which  the  human  mind  never  had  even 
an  intimation  before,  and  which  came  into  it  by  a  mortal 
leap,  abrupt  and  startling,  without  antecedents  and  with¬ 
out  premonitions.  This  would  be  rather  of  the  nature 
of  a  Divine  revelation  than  of  a  human  discovery.  A 
revelation  from  God  is  different  in  kind  from  a  discovery 
of  the  human  reason.  It  comes  down  from  another 
sphere,  from  another  mind,  than  that  of  man ;  and, 
although  it  is  conformed  to  the  wants  of  the  human  race, 
can  by  no  means  be  regarded  as  a  natural  development 
out  of  it ;  as  a  merely  historical  process,  like  the  origina¬ 
tion  of  a  new  form  of  government,  or  a  new  school  of 
philosophy.  A  discovery  of  the  human  mind,  on  the 
contrary,  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  pure,  spontaneous,  pro¬ 
duct  of  the  human  mind  ;  as  one  fold  in  its  unfolding. 

It  follows,  consequently,  that  progress  in  human  knowl¬ 
edge,  progress  in  the  development  of  human  reason,  does 
not  imply  the  origination  of  truth  absolutely  and  in  all 
respects  unknown  before.  The  human  mind  has  pre¬ 
sentiments  ;  dim  intimations ;  which  thicken  all  along 
the  track  of  human  history  like  the  hazy  belt  of  the 
galaxy  among  the  clear,  sparkling,  mapped,  stars.  These 
presentiments  are  a  species  and  a  grade  of  knowledge.  — 
They  are  not  distinct  and  stated  knowledge,  it  is  true, 
but  they  are  by  no  means  blank  ignorance.  The  nebulae 
are  visible ,  though  not  yet  resolved.  Especially  is  this 
true  in  regard  to  the  mind  of  the  race ;  the  general  and 
histcric  mind.  How  often  is  the  general  mind  restless 
and  uneasy  with  the  dim  anticipation  of  the  future  dis- 


66 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

covery  ?  This  unrest,  with  its  involved  longing,  and  its 
potential  knowledge,  comes  to  its  height,  it  is  true,  in 
the  mind  of  some  one  individual  who  is  most  in  posses¬ 
sion  of  the  spirit  of  his  time,  and  who  is  selected  by 
Providence  as  the  immediate  instrument  of  the  actual 
and  stated  discovery.  But  such  an  one  is  only  the 
secondary  cause  of  an  effect,  whose  first  cause  lies  lower 
down  and  more  abroad.  There  were  Reformers  before 
the  Reformation.  Luther  articulated  himself  upon  a 
process  that  had  already  begun  in  the  Christian  church, 
and  ministered  to  a  want,  and  a  very  intelligent  want 
too,  that  was  already  in  existence.  Columbus  shared  in 
the  enterprising  spirit  of  his  time,  and  differed  in  degree, 
and  not  in  kind,  from  the  bold  navigators  among  whom 
he  was  born  and  bred.  That  vision  of  the  new  world 
from  the  shores  of  old  Spain ;  that  presentiment  of  the 
existence  of  another  continent  beyond  the  deep ;  a  pre¬ 
sentiment  so  strong  as  almost  to  justify  the  poetic 
extravagance  of  Schiller’s  sonnet,*  in  which  he  says,  that 
the  boding  mind  of  the  mariner  would  have  created  a 
continent,  if  there  had  been  none  in  the  trackless  West 
to  meet  his  anticipation ;  that  prophetic  sentiment,  Co¬ 
lumbus  possessed,  not  as  an  isolated  individual,  but  as  a 
man  who  had  grown  up  with  his  age  and  into  his  age ; 
whose  teeming  mind  had  been  informed  by  the  traditions 
of  history,  and  whose  active  imagination  had  been  fired 
by  the  strange  narratives  of  anterior  and  contempora¬ 
neous  navigation. 

Another  proof  of  the  position  that  the  individual  mind 
owes  much  of  its  inventiveness  and  originality  to  its 
ability  to  join  on  upon  the  invention  and  origination 
already  in  existence,  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  some  of 


*  Columbus. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


67 


the  most  marked  discoveries  in  science  have  occurred 
simultaneously  to  different  minds.  The  dispute  between 
the  adherents  of  Newton  and  Leibnitz  respecting  prior¬ 
ity  of  discovery  in  the  science  of  Fluxions,  is  hardly  yet 
settled  ;  but  the  candid  mind  on  either  side  will  acknowl¬ 
edge  that,  be  the  mere  matter  of  priority  of  detailed  dis¬ 
covery  and  publication  as  it  may,  neither  of  these  great 
minds  was  a  servile  plagiary.  The  Englishman,  in  re¬ 
gard  to  the  German,  thought  alone  and  by  himself;  and 
the  German,  in  regard  to  the  Englishman,  thought  alone 
and  by  himself.  But  both  thought  in  the  light  of  past 
discoveries,  and  of  all  then  existing  mathematical  knowl¬ 
edge.  Both  were  under  the  laws  and  impulse  of  the 
general  scientific  mind,  as  that  mind  had  manifested 
itself  historically  in  preceding  discoveries,  and  was 
now  using  them  both  as  its  organ  of  investigation  and 
medium  of  distinct  announced  discovery.  The  dispute 
between  the  English  and  French  chemists,  respecting 
the  comparative  merits  of  Black  and  Lavoisier,  is  still 
kept  up ;  but  here,  too,  candor  must  acknowledge  that 
both  were  original  investigators,  and  that  an  earlier  death 
of  either  would  not  have  prevented  the  discovery. 

Now  in  both  of  these  instances  the  minds  of  individ¬ 
uals  had  been  set  upon  the  trail  of  the  new  discovery  by 
history ;  by  a  knowledge  of  the  then  present  state  and 
wants  of  science.  They  had  kept  up  with  the  develop¬ 
ment  of  science  ;  they  knew  what  had  actually  been 
achieved  ;  they  saw  what  was  still  needed.  They  felt 
the  wants  of  science,  and  these  felt  wants  were  dim  an¬ 
ticipations  of  the  supply,  and  finally  led  to  it.  It  was 
because  Newton  and  Leibnitz  both  labored  in  a  historical 
line  of  direction,  that  they  labored  in  the  same  line,  and 
came  to  the  same  result,  each  of  and  by  himself.  For 
this  historical  basis  for  inquiry  and  discovery  is  common 


68 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

to  all.  And  as  there  is  but  one  truth  to  be  discovered, 
and  but  one  high  and  royal  road  to  it,  it  is  not  surpris¬ 
ing  that  often  several  minds  should  reach  the  goal  sim¬ 
ultaneously. 

A  striking  instance  of  the  productive  power  imparted 
to  the  individual  mind  by  its  taking  the  central  position 
of  history,  is  seen  in  the  department  of  philosophy.  In 
this  department  it  is  simply  impossible,  for  the  individ¬ 
ual  thinker  to  make  any  advance  unless  he  first  make 
himself  acquainted  with  what  the  human  mind  has  al¬ 
ready  accomplished  in  this  sphere  of  investigation.  With¬ 
out  some  adequate  knowledge  of  the  course  which  phi¬ 
losophic  thought  has  already  taken,  the  individual  in¬ 
quirer  in  this  oceanic  region  is  all  afloat.  He  does  not 
even  know  where  to  begin,  because  he  knows  not  where 
others  have  left  ofi;  and  the  system  of  such  a  philoso¬ 
pher,  if  it  contain  truth,  is  most  commonly  but  the  dry 
repetition  of  some  previous  system.  Originality  and 
true  progress  here,  as  elsewhere,  are  impossible  without 
history.  Only  when  the  individual  has  made  his  mind 
historic  by  working  his  way  into  that  great  main  current 
of  philosophic  thought,  which  may  be  traced  from  Py¬ 
thagoras  to  Plato  and  Aristotle,  from  Aristotle  to  the 
Schoolmen,  and  from  the  Schoolmen  to  Bacon  and 
Kant,  and  moving  onward  with  it  up  to  the  point  where 
the  next  stage  of  true  progress  and  normal  development 
is  to  join  on  ;  only  when  he  has  thus  found  the  proper 
point  of  departure  in  the  present  state  of  the  science,  is 
he  prepared  to  depart,  and  to  move  forward  on  the 
straight  but  limitless  line  of  philosophic  inquiry.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  the  speculative  systems  of  Germany 
exhibit  such  productiveness  and  originality.  Whatever 
opinion  may  be  held  respecting  the  correctness  of  the 
Germanic  mind  in  this  department,  no  one  can  deny  its 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


69 


fertility.  The  Teutonic  philosopher  first  prepares  for  the 
appearance  of  his  system,  by  a  history  of  philosophy  in 
the  past,  and  then  aims  to  make  his  own  system  the 
crown  and  completion  of  the  entire  historic  process  ;  the 
last  link  of  the  long  chain.  It  is  true  that,  in  every  in¬ 
stance  thus  far  in  the  movement  of  this  philosophy,  the 
intended  last  link  has  only  served  as  the  support  of  an¬ 
other  and  still  other  links,  vet  only  in  this  way  of  historic 
preparation  could  such  a  productive  method  of  philoso¬ 
phizing  have  been  attained.  Only  from  the  position  of 
history,  even  though  it  be  falsely  conceived,  can  the  spec¬ 
ulative  reason  construct  new  and  original  systems. 

A  good  illustration  of  the  defectiveness  which  must 
attach  to  a  system  of  philosophy,  when  it  is  not  conceiv¬ 
ed  and  constructed  in  the  light  of  the  history  of  philoso¬ 
phy,  is  seen  in  the  so-called  Scotch  school.  A  candid 
mind  must  admit  that  the  spirit  and  general  aim  of  this 
system  was  sound  and  correct.  It  was  a  reaction  against 
the  sensual  school,  especially  as  that  system  had  been 
run  out  to  its  logical  extreme  in  France.  It  recognized 
and  made  much  of  first  truths,  and  that  faculty  of  the 
mind  which  the  ablest  teacher  of  this  school  loosely  de¬ 
nominated  Common  Sense,  and  still  more  loosely  defin- 
ed,  was  unquestionably  meant  to  be  a  power  higher  than 
that  which  “judges  according  to  sense.”  But  it  was  not 
an  original  system,  in  the  sense  of  grasping  with  a 
stronger  and  more  scientific  grasp  than  had  ever  been 
done  before,  upon  the  standing  problems  of  philosophy. 
It  is  true  that  it  addressed  itself  to  the  solution  of  the 
old  problems,  in  the  main,  in  the  right  spirit  and  from  a 
deep  interest  in  the  truth,  but  it  did  not  go  low  enough 
down,  and  did  not  get  near  enough  to  the  heart  of 
the  difficulty,  to  constitute  it  an  original  and  powerful 
system  of  speculation.  Its  greatest  defect  is  the  lack  of 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


70 

a  scientific  spirit,  which  is  indicated  in  the  fact  that, 
although  it  has  exerted  a  wide  influence  upon  the  popu¬ 
lar  mind,  it  has  exerted  but  little  influence  upon  the  phi¬ 
losophic  mind,  either  of  Great  Britain  or  the  Continent. 

And  this  defect  is  to  be  traced  chiefly  to  the  lack  of 
an  extensive  and  profound  knowledge  of  the  history  of 
philosophic  speculation.  The  individual  mind,  in  this 
instance,  attempted  a  refutation  of  the  acute  arguments 
of  scepticism,  without  much  knowledge  of  the  previous 
developments  of  the  sceptical  understanding  and  the 
counter-statements  of  true  philosophy.  A  comprehen¬ 
sive  and  reproductive  study  of  the  ancient  Grecian  philo¬ 
sophies,  together  with  the  more  elaborate  and  profound 
of  the  modern  systems,  would  have  been  a  preparatory 
discipline  for  the  Scottish  reason  that  would  have  armed 
it  with  a  far  more  scientific  and  original  power.  Its 
aim,  in  the  first  place,  would  have  been  higher,  because 
its  sense  of  the  difficulty  to  be  overcome  would  have 
been  far  more  just  and  adequate.  With  more  knowledge 
of  what  the  human  intellect  had  already  accomplished, 
both  on  the  side  of  truth  and  of  error,  its  reflection  would 
have  been  more  profound ;  its  point  of  view  more  cen¬ 
tral  ;  its  distinctions  and  definitions  more  philosophical 
and  scientific ;  and  its  refutations  more  conclusive  and 
unanswerable.* 


*  This  deficiency  in  scientific  character,  in  the  Scotch  philosophy,  is  felt 
by  its  present  and  ablest  defender,  Sir  William  Hamilton.  More  deeply 
imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  department  than  either  Keid  or  Stewart  was, 
because  of  a  wider  and  more  thorough  scholarship  than  either  of  them  pos¬ 
sessed,  he  has  been  laboring  to  give  it  what  it  lacks.  But  it  is  more  than 
doubtful  whether  any  mind  that  denies  the  possibility  of  metaphysics  as 
distinguished  from  psychology,  will  be  able  to  do  much  towards  imparting 
a  necessary  and  scientific  character  either  to  philosophy  generally,  or  to  a 
system  which  is  popular  rather  than  philosophic,  in  its  foundations  and  su¬ 
perstructure. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


71 


Thus  we  might  examine  all  the  departments  of  hu¬ 
man  knowledge,  singly  by  themselves,  and  we  should 
find  that,  in  regard  to  each  of  them,  the  individual  mind 
is  made  at  once  recipient  and  original  by  the  preparatory 
discipline  of  historical  studies  and  the  possession  of  the 
historic  spirit.  Even  in  the  domain  of  Literature  and 
Fine  Art,  the  mind  that  keeps  up  with  the  progress  of 
the  nation  or  the  race  ;  the  mind  that  is  able  to  go  along 
with  the  great  process  of  national  or  human  development 
in  this  department ;  is  the  original  and  originant  mind. 
Although  in  Poetry  and  Fine  Art,  freshness  and  original¬ 
ity  seem  to  depend  more  upon  the  impulse  of  individual 
genius  and  less  upon  the  general  movement  of  the  na¬ 
tional  or  the  universal  mind,  yet  here,  too,  it  is  a  fact, 
that  the  founders  of  particular  schools  ;  we  mean  schools 
of  eminent  and  historic  merit ;  have  been  men  of  exten¬ 
sive  study,  and  liberal,  universal  sympathies.  The  great 
masters  of  the  several  schools  of  Italian  Art,  were  dili¬ 
gent  students  of  the  Antique,  and  had  minds  open  to 
truth  and  nature  in  all  the  schools  that  preceded  them. 
They,  moreover,  cherished  a  historic  feeling  and  spirit,  by 
a  most  intimate  and  general  intercourse  with  each  other. 
The  earnest  rivalry  that  prevailed,  sprung  up  from  a 
close  study  of  each  other’s  productions.  The  view  which 
Cellini  presents  us  of  the  relations  of  the  Italian  artists 
to  each  other,  and  of  the  general  spirit  that  prevailed 
among  them,  shows  that  there  was  very  little  that  was 
bigoted  and  individual  in  those  minds  so  remarkable  for 
originality  and  productiveness  within  their  own  sphere. 

A  very  fine  and  instructive  illustration  of  the  truth  we 
are  endeavoring  to  establish,  is  found  in  the  department 
of  literature  in  the  poet  Wordsworth.  This  man  was  a 
student.  He  cultivated  the  poetic  faculty  within  him  as 
sedulously  as  Newton  cultivated  the  scientific  genius 


72  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

within  him.  He  retired  up  into  the  mountains,  when  he 
had  once  determined  to  make  poetry  the  aim  of  his  lite¬ 
rary  life,  and  by  the  thoughtful  perusal  of  the  English 
poets,  as  much  as  by  his  brooding  contemplation  of  ex¬ 
ternal  nature,  enlarged  and  strengthened  his  poetic  power. 
By  familiarizing  himself  with  the  spirit  and  principle, 
the  inward  history ,  of  English  poetry,  he  became  largely 
imbued  with  the  national  spirit.  And  he  was  thorough 
in  this  course  of  study.  He  not  only  devoted  himself  to 
the  works  of  the  first  English  poets,  the  Chaucers,  Spen¬ 
sers,  Shakspeares  and  Miltons ;  but  he  patiently  studied 
the  productions  of  the  second  class,  so  much  neglected 
by  Englishmen,  the  Draytons,  the  Daniels,  and  the 
Donnes.  The  works  of  these  latter  are  not  distinguished 
for  passion  in  sentiment  or  beauty  in  form,  but  they  are 
remarkable  for  that  thoroughly  English  property,  thought¬ 
ful  sterling  sense.  Wordsworth  was  undoubtedly  at¬ 
tracted  to  these  poets,  not  merely  because  he  believed, 
with  that  most  philosophic  of  English  critics  who  was 
his  friend  and  contemporary,  that  good  sense  is  the  body 
of  poetry,  but  because  he  saw  that  an  acquaintance  with 
them  was  necessary  to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  Eng¬ 
lish  poetry  considered  as  a  historic  process  of  develop¬ 
ment,  as  one  phase  of  the  English  mind.  For,  although  a 
poem  like  the  Polyolbion  of  Drayton  can  by  no  means 
be  put  into  the  first  class  with  the  Faery  Queen  of 
Spenser,  it  yet  contains  more  of  the  English  temper,  and 
exhibits  more  of  the  flesh  and  muscle  of  the  native  mind. 
These  writers  Wordsworth  had  patiently  studied,  as  is 
indicated  by  that  vein  of  strong  sense  which  runs  like  a 
muscular  cord  through  the  more  light  and  airy  texture 
of  his  m  usings.  It  was  because  of  this  historical  train¬ 
ing  as  a  poet,  that  Wordsworth’s  poetry  breathes  a  far 
loftier  and  ampler  spirit  than  it  would  have  done  had  it 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


73 


been  like  that  of  Byron,  for  example,  the  product  of  an 
intense,  but  ignorant  and  narrow,  individualism.  And 
it  was  also  because  of  this  training,  that  Wordsworth, 
while  preserving  as  original  an  individuality,  certainly,  as 
any  writer  of  his  time,  acquired  a  much  more  national 
and  universal  poetic  spirit  than  any  of  his  contemporaries, 
and  was  the  most  productive  poet  of  his  age. 

The  result,  then,  of  the  discussion  of  the  subject  un¬ 
der  this  head  is,  that  the  individual  mind  acquires  power 
of  discernment  and  power  of  statement  only  by  enter¬ 
ing  into  a  process  already  going  on ;  into  the  great  main 
movement  of  the  common  human  mind.  In  no  way  can 
the  educated  man  become  genially  recipient,  and  at  the 
same  time  richly  productive,  but  by  a  profound  study  of 
the  development  which  truth  has  already  attained  in  the 
history  of  man  and  the  world. 

III.  The  third  characteristic  of  the  historical  mind  is 
its  union  of  moderation  and  enthusiasm. 

One  of  the  most  distinct  and  impressive  teachings  of 
history  is,  that  not  every  opinion  which  springs  up  and  has 
currency  in  a  particular  age,  is  true  for  all  time.  History 
records  the  rise  and  great  popularity,  for  a  while,  of  ma¬ 
ny  a  theory  which  succeeding  ages  have  consigned  to 
oblivion,  and  which  has  exerted  no  permanent  influence 
upon  human  progress.  There  always  are,  among  the 
opinions  and  theories  prevalent  in  any  particular  period, 
some,  and  perhaps  many,  that  have  not  truth  enough  in 
them  to  preserve  them.  And  yet  these  may  be  tne  very 
ones  that  seize  upon  the  individual  and  local  mind  with 
most  violence  and  most  immediate  effect.  Because  they 
are  partial  and  narrow,  they  for  this  reason  grasp  the 
popular  mind  more  fiercely  and  violently.  Were  they 
broader  and  more  universal  in  their  character,  their  im¬ 
mediate  influence  might  be  less  visible,  because  it  would 


74 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


extend  over  a  far  wider  surface,  and  go  down  to  a  much 
lower  depth.  A  blow  upon  a  single  point  makes  a  deep 
dint,  but  displaces  very  few  particles  of  matter,  while  a 
steady  heavy  pressure  over  the  whole  surface,  changes 
the  position  of  every  atom,  with  but  little  superficial 
change. 

The  proper  posture,  therefore,  of  the  individual  mind, 
and,  especially,  of  the  educated  mind,  towards  the  current 
opinions  of  the  age  in  which  he  lives,  is,  that  of  modera¬ 
tion.  The  educated  man  should  keep  his  mind  equable, 
and,  in  some  degree,  aloof  from  passing  views  and  theo¬ 
ries.  He  ought  not  to  allow  theories  that  have  just  come 
into  existence  to  seize  upon  his  understanding  with  all 
that  assault  and  onset  with  which  they  take  captive  the 
uneducated,  and,  especially,  the  unhistoric  mind.  Ot 
what  use  are  the  teachings  of  history  if  they  do  not  serve 
to  render  the  mind  prudently  distrustful  in  regard  to  new¬ 
born  opinions,  at  the  same  time  that  they  throw  it  wide 
open  and  fill  it  with  a  strong  confidence  towards  all  that 
has  historically  proved  itself  to  be  true  ?  Is  it  for  the 
cultivated  man,  the  man  of  broad  and  general  views,  to 
throw  himself  without  reserve  and  with  all  his  weight, 
into  what,  for  aught  he  yet  knows,  may  be  only  a  cross¬ 
current  and  eddy,  instead  of  the  main  stream  of  truth  ? 

A'  ' 

Now  it  is  only  by  the  possession  of  a  historic  spirit  . 
that  the  individual  can  keep  himself  sufficiently  above 
the  course  of  things  about  him,  to  enable  him  to  judge 
correctly  concerning  them.  Knowing  what  the  human 
mind  has  already  accomplished  in  a  particular  direction, 
in  art  or  science,  in  philosophy  or  religion,  he  very  soon 
sees  whether  the  particular  movement  of  the  time  in  any 
one  of  these  directions,  will  or  will  not  coincide  with  the 
preceding  movement  and  be  concurrent  with  it.  He 
occupies  a  height,  a  vantage  ground,  by  virtue  of  his 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


75 


extensive  historical  knowledge,  and  he  stands  upon  it, 
not  with  the  tremor  and  fervor  of  a  partisan,  but  with 
the  calmness  and  insight  of  a  judge.  Suppose  the  activ¬ 
ity  of  an  age,  or  of  an  individual,  manifests  itself  in  the 
production  of  a  new  theory  in  religion,  of  some  new 
statement  of  Christian  doctrine,  the  mind  that  is  well 
versed  in  the  history  of  the  Christian  church,  and  of 
Christian  doctrine,  will  very  quickly  see  whether  the 
new  joins  on  upon  the  old;  whether  it  is  an  advance  in 
the  line  of  progress  or  a  deviation  from  it.  And  his 
attitude  will  be  accordingly.  He  will  not  be  led  astray 
with  the  multitude  or  even  with  the  age.  Through  all 
the  fervor  and  zeal  of  the  period,  he  will  preserve  a  mod¬ 
erate  and  temperate  tone  of  mind ;  committing  himself 
to  current  opinions  no  faster  than  he  sees  they  will 
amalgamate  with  the  truth  which  the  human  mind  has 
already  and  confessedly  discovered  in  past  ages ;  with 
historic  truth. 

This  moderation  in  adopting  and  maintaining  current 
opinions  is  an  infallible  characteristic  of  a  true  scholar, 
of  a  ripe  culture.  And  it  is  the  fruit  of  that  criticism  and 
scepticism  which  is  generated  by  historical  study.  For 
it  is  one  of  the  effects  of  such  studies  to  render  the  mind 
critical  and  sceptical ;  not,  indeed,  in  respect  to  truth  that 
has  stood  the  test  of  time,  but  to  truth  that  has  just  made 
its  appearance.  It  would  be  untrue  to  say  that  the  study 
of  history  genders  absolute  doubt  and  unbelief  in  the 
mind ;  that  it  tends  generally  and  by  its  very  nature  to 
unsettle  faith  in  the  good  and  the  true.  This  would  be 
the  case  if  there  were  no  truth  in  the  science :  if  it  were 
substantially  the  record  of  dissension  and  disagreement  ; 
if,  above  the  din  and  uproar  of  discordant  voices,  on^ 
clear  and  clarion-like  voice  did  not  make  itself  heard  as 
the  voice  of  universal  history.  We  are  all  familiar  with 


76 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

» 

the  story  told  of  Raleigh,  who  is  said  to  have  destroyed 
the  unpublished  half  of  his  work,  because  of  several 
persons  who  professed  to  describe  an  occurrence  in  the 
Tower  Court,  which  he  had  also  witnessed  from  his 
prison  window,  each  gave  a  different  version  of  it,  and 
his  own  differed  from  theirs.  But  history  is  not  thus 
uncertain  and  unreliable.  It  teaches  but  one  lesson.  It 
reveals  but  one  truth.  Down  through  the  ages  and 
generations  it  traces  one  straight  line,  and  in  this  one 
line  of  direction  lies  truth,  and  out  of  it  lies  error.  Its 
record  of  the  successes  and  triumphs  of  truth  certainly 
teaches  a  correct  lesson,  and  its  record  of  the  successes 
and  triumphs  of  error  is  but  the  dark  background  from 
which  truth  stands  out  in  still  more  bold  and  impressive 
reality.  Whatever  may  be  the  case  with  particular 
accounts  by  particular  individuals,  "the  main  current  of 
this  science  runs  in  one  direction,  and  its  great  lesson  is 
in  favor  of  truth  and  righteousness. 

Not,  then,  towards  well-tried  and  well-established  truth, 
but  towards  apparent  and  newly-discovered  truth,  does 
history  engender  criticism  and  scepticism.  The  past  is 
secure.  That  which  has  verified  itself  by  the  lapse  of 
time,  and  the  course  of  experiment,  and  the  sifting  of 
investigation,  is  commended  as  absolute  and  universal 
truth  to  the  individual  mind,  and  history  bids  it  to 
believe  and  doubt  not.  But  that  which  is  current  merely ; 
that  which  in  the  novelty  and  youth  of  its  existence  is 
carrying  all  men  away ;  must  stand  trial,  must  be  brought 
to  test,  as  all  its  predecessors  have  been.  Towards  the 
opinions  and  theories  of  the  present,  so  far  as  they  vary 
from  those  of  the  past,  the  historical  mind  is  inquisitive, 
and  critical,  and  sceptical,  not  for  the  purpose,  be  it 
remembered,  of  proving  them  to  be  false,  but  with  the 
generous  hope  of  evincing  them  to  be  true.  For  the 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


77 


scepticism  of  history  is  very  different  from  scepticism  in 
religion.  The  latter  is  always  in  some  wav  biassed  and 
interested.  It  springs  out  of  a  desire,  conscious  or  uncon¬ 
scious,  to  overthrow  that  which  the  general  mind  has 
found  to  be  true,  and  is  resting  in  as  truth.  Scepticism 
in  religion  has  always  been  in  the  minority  ;  at  war  with 
the  received  opinions  of  the  race,  and  consequently  with 
all  that  is  historic.  There  never  was  an  individual  scep¬ 
tic,  from  Pyrrho  to  Strauss,  who  was  not  unhistorical ; 
who  did  not  take  his  stand  outside  of  the  great  travelled 
road  of  human  opinion ;  who  did  not  try  to  disturb  the 
human  race  in  the  possession  of  opinions  that  had  come 
down  from  the  beginning,  besides  having  all  the  instincts 
of  reason  to  corroborate  them.  But  the  scepticism  of 
history  has  no  desire  to  overthrow  any  opinion  that  has 
verified  itself  in  the  course  of  ages,  and  been  organically 
assimilated,  in  the  course  of  human  development.  All 
such  opinion  and  all  such  truth  constitutes  the  very  sub¬ 
stance  of  the  science  itself ;  its  very  vitality  and  charm 
for  the  human  mind ;  and,  therefore,  can  never  be  the 
object  of  doubt  or  attack  for  genuine  historic  scepticism. 
On  the  contrary,  these  sifting  and  critical  methods  have 
no  ~>ther  end  or  aim  but  to  make  a  real  addition  to  the 
existing  stock  of  well-ascertained  truth,  and  to  prevent 
any  erroneous  opinion  or  theory  from  going  into  this 
sum-total,  and  thus  receiving  the  sterling  stamp  and 
endorsement.  This  criticism  and  scepticism  is  simply 
for  self-protection.  These  sceptical  and  sifting  processes 
are  gone  through  with,  to  preserve  an  all-sided  science 
pure  from  the  individual,  the  local,  and  the  temporary, 
and  to  keep  it  universal  and  absolute  in  its  contents  and 
spirit. 

Now  it  might  seem  at  first  glance,  that  this  modera¬ 
tion  of  mind  towards  current  opinions  would  preclude  all 


7S  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

earnestness  and  enthusiasm  in  the  educated  man ;  thai 
the  historic  spirit  must  necessarily  be  cold  and  phlegma¬ 
tic.  It  might  seem  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  such 
a  mind  to  take  an  active  and  vigorous  interest  in  the 
age  in  which  it  lived,  and  that  it  would  be  out  of  its 
element  amid  the  stir  and  motion  going  on  all  around  it. 
This  is  substantially  the  objection  which  the  half-educat¬ 
ed  disciple  of  the  present  brings  against  history  and  his¬ 
torical  views  and  opinions. 

But  this  is  a  view  that  is  false  from  defect ;  from  not 
containing  the  whole  truth.  It  arises  from  not  taking 
the  full  idea  of  the  science  into  the  mind.  This  idea, 
like  all  strictly  so-called  ideas,  contains  two  opposites, 
which,  to  the  superficial  glance,  look  like  irreconcilable 
contraries,  but  to  a  deeper  and  more  adequate  intuition, 
are  not  only  perfectly  reconcilable,  but  are  opposites  in 
whose  conciliation  consists  the  vitality  and  fertility  of 
the  idea,  and  of  the  science  founded  upon  it.  History, 
as  we  have  seen,  is  both  continuous  and  complete ;  and 
continuity  and  completeness  are  opposite  conceptions. — 
It  is,  in  the  first  place,  the  record  of  a  development  that 
must  unintermittently  go  on,  and  cannot  cease,  until  the 
final  consummation.  And  it  is,  in  the  second  place, 
complete  in  its  spirit,  because  at  every  point  in  the  con¬ 
tinuous  process  there  are  indications  of  the  consumma¬ 
tion  ;  tendencies  to  an  ultimate  end.  No  part  of  history 
is  irrelative.  Even  when  it  is  but  the  account  of  a  par¬ 
ticular  period,  a  small  section  of  the  great  historic  process, 
it  exhibits  this  complete  and  universal  spirit  by  clinging 
to  what  precedes  and  pointing  to  what  succeeds  ;  by  its 
large  discourse  of  reason  looking  before  and  after.  But 
the  objector  does  not  reconcile  these  opposites  in  his 
own  mind  ;  he  does  not  take  this  comprehensive  and  full 
view  of  the  subject.  Whether  he  acknowledges  it  or  not 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


79 


his  view  really  is,  that  the  many  several  ages  of  which 
history  takes  cognizance,  have  no  inward  connection  with 
each  other,  nor  any  common  tendency,  and  consequently 
that  the  whole  entire  past,  in  relation  to  the  present,  is  a 
nonentity.  It  is  gone,  with  all  that  it  was  and  did,  into 
“  the  dark  backward  and  abysm  ”  of  time,  and  the  present 
age,  like  every  other,  starts  independent  and  alone  upon 
its  particular  mission.  His  view  of  history  is  atomic.  — 
On  his  theorv,  there  is  no  such  thins:  as  either  connected 
evolution  or  explanatory  termination,  in  the  course  of  the 
world.  There  is  no  human  race,  no  common  humanity, 
to  be  manifested  in  the  millions  of  individuals,  and  the 
multitudes  of  ages  and  epochs.  On  this  theory,  there  is 
and  can  be  nothing  in  the  past,  in  which  the  present  has 
any  vital  interest;  nothing  in  the  past  which  has  any 
authority  for  the  present;  nothing  in  the  past  which  con- 
stitutes  the  root  of  the  present,  and  nothing  in  the  present 
which  constitutes  the  germ  of  the  future.  History,  on 
this  theory,  has  no  principle  ;  no  organization.  It  is  a 
mere  catalogue  of  events  ;  a  mere  list  of  occurrences. 

It  is  because  the  imperfectly  educated  disciple  of  the 
present,  really  takes  this  view,  that  he  asserts  that  his¬ 
toric  views  and  opinions  are  deadening  in  their  influence 
upon  the  mind,  and  that  the  historic  spirit  is  a  lifeless 
spirit.  If  he  believed  in  a  living  concatenation  of  events 
and  a  vital  propagation  of  influences,  he  would  not  say 
that  that  which  is  truly  historical,  is  virtually  dead  and 
buried.  If  he  believed  that  no  one  age,  any  more  than 
anv  one  individual,  contains  the  whole  of  human  deveb 
opment  within  itself,  but  is  only  one  fold  of  the  great 
unfolding,  he  would  suspect,  at  least,  that  there  might  be 
elements  in  the  past  so  assimilated  and  wrought  into  the 
nistory  of  universal  man  that  they  are  matters  of  living 
interest  for  every  present  age.  If  he  believed  that  truth 


80 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


is  reached  only  by  the  successive  and  consentaneous 
endeavors  of  many  individual  minds,  each  making  use 
of  all  the  labors  of  its  predecessors,  and  each  taking  up 
the  standing  problem  where  its  predecessors  had  dropped 
it ;  if  the  too  zealous  disciple  of  the  present  believed  that 
truth  is  thus  reached  only  by  the  efforts  of  the  race ;  of 
the  universal  mind  in  distinction  from  the  individual ;  he 
would  find  life  all  along  the  line  of  human  history ;  he 
would  see  that  in  taking  into  his  mind  a  historic  view  or 
opinion  he  was  lodging  there  the  highest  intensity  of 
mental  life ;  the  very  purest  and  densest  reason  of  the 
race. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  being  cold,  phlegmatical  and  life¬ 
less,  the  historical  mind  is  really  the  only  truly  living  and 
enthusiastic  mind.  It  is  the  only  mind  that  is  in  com¬ 
munication.  It  is  the  only  mind  that  is  not  isolated.  — 
And  in  the  mental  world,  intercommunication  is  not 
more  necessary  to  a  vital  process,  and  isolation  or  break¬ 
ing  off  is  not  more  destructive  of  a  vital  process,  than  in 
the  world  of  nature.  That  zeal,  begotten  by  the  narrow 
views  of  an  individual,  or  a  locality,  or  an  age,  which  the 
unhistorical  mind  exhibits,  is  an  altogether  different  thing 
from  the  enthusiasm  of  a  spirit  enlarged,  educated,  and 
liberalized,  by  an  acquaintance  with  all  ages  and  opin¬ 
ions.  Enthusiasm  springs  out  of  the  contemplation  of  a 
whole ;  zeal  from  the  examination  of  a  part.  And  there 
is  no  surer  test  and  sign  of  intellectual  vitality  than 
enthusiasm ;  that  deep  and  sustained  interest  which  is 
grounded  in  the  broad  views  and  profound  intuitions  of 
history. 

But  while  the  well-read  student  of  history  preserves  a 
wise  and  cautious  moderation,  in  the  outset,  towards 
current  opinions,  yet,  because  of  this  genial  and  enthusi¬ 
astic  interest  in  the  truth  which  the  human  mind  has 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


81 


actually  and  without  dispute  arrived  at,  he  m  the  end 
comes  to  take  all  the  interest  in  the  views  and  theories 
of  the  present,  which  they  really  deserve.  The  historical 
mind  does  no  ultimate  injustice.  So  far  and  so  fast  as 
it  finds  that  the  new  movement  of  the  present  age  is  a 
natural  continuation  of  the  unfinished  development  of 
the  past,  does  he  acknowledge  it  as  a  step  in  advance, 
and  receives  the  new  element  into  his  mind  and  into  his 
culture  with  all  the  enthusiasm  and  all  the  feeling  with 
which  he  adopts  the  great  historic  systems  of  antiquity. 
In  this  way  the  historical  mind  is  actually  more  truly 
alive  and  interested  even  in  relation  to  the  present,  than 
the  man  of  the  present.  It  appreciates  the  real  excel¬ 
lence  of  the  time  more  intelligently  and  profoundly,  and 
it  certainly  has  a  far  more  inspiriting  view  of  the  connec¬ 
tion  of  this  excellence  with  the  excellence  that  has  pre¬ 
ceded  it,  and  which  is  the  root  of  it.  How  much  more 
inspiring  and  enlivening  is  that  vision  which  sees  the 
progress  of  the  present  linked  to  that  of  all  the  past,  and 
contributing  to  make  up  that  long  line  of  development 
extending  through  the  whole  career  of  the  human  species, 
than  that  vision  which  sees  but  one  thing  at  a  time,  and 
does  not  even  know  that  it  has  any  living  references,  or 
any  organic  connections  whatever  ! 

As  an  exemplification  of  the  preceding  remarks,  con¬ 
template  for  a  moment  the  historian  Niebuhr.  His 
was  a  genuinely  historical  mind.  He  conceived  and  con- 

O  *j 

structed  in  the  true  spirit  of  history.  He  always  viewed 
events  in  the  light  of  the  organization  by  which  they 
were  shaped  and  of  which  they  were  elementary  parts. 
He  saw  by  a  native  sagacity,  in  which  respect  he  never 
had  a  superior,  the  idea  lying  at  the  bottom  of  a  histori¬ 
cal  process ;  such,  for  example,  as  the  separate  founda¬ 
tion  of  the  city  ot  Rome ;  the  rise  and  formation  of  the 


82 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


Roman  population  ;  the  growth  and  consolidation  of  the 
plebeians ;  and  built  up  his  account  of  it,  out  of  it  and 
upon  it.  His  written  history  thus  corresponds  with  a 
fresh  and  vital  correspondence  with  the  actual  history ; 
with  the  living  process  itself.  In  this  way  he  reproduced 
human  life  in  his  pages,  and  the  student  is  carried  along 
through  the  series  with  all  the  interest  and  charm  of  an 
actor  in  it.  So  sagacious  was  his  intuition  that,  although 
two  thousand  years  further  off  from  them  in  time,  he  has 
unquestionably  so  reconstructed  the  very  facts  of  the 
early  history  of  Rome,  as  to  bring  them  nearer  the  actual 
matter  of  fact,  than  they  appear  in  the  legendary  pages 
of  Livy.  It  was  the  habit  of  his  mind,  both  by  nature 
and  by  an  acquisition  as  minute  as  it  was  vast,  to  look 
at  human  life  as  an  indivisible  process,  and  to  connect 
together  all  the  ages,  empires,  civilizations,  and  literatures, 
of  the  secular  world  by  the  bond  of  a  common  develop¬ 
ment  ;  thus  organizing  the  immense  amount  of  material 
contained  in  human  history  into  a  complete  and  symme¬ 
trical  whole. 

But  slow  and  sequacious  as  the  movements  of  such  an 
organizing  and  thoroughly  historic  mind  were,  and  must 
be  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  we  do  not  hesitate  to 
affirm  that  the  historian  Niebuhr  was  one  of  the  most 
vividly  alive  and  profoundly  enthusiastic  minds  in  all 
literary  history.  He  was  not  spared  to  complete  his 
great  work  as  it  lay  in  him  to  have  done,  and  as  he 
would  have  done,  immense  as  it  was,  had  he  lived  to  the 
appointed  age  of  man.  He  left  it  a  fragment.  He  left 
it  a  Torso  which  no  man  can  complete.  But  from  that 
fragment  has  gushed,  as  from  many  living  centres,  all 
Ihe  life  and  power  not  only  of  Roman  history,  but  of  his¬ 
tory  generally,  since  his  day.  It  gave  an  impulse  to  this 
whole  department  which  it  still  continues  to  feel,  besides 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIEIT. 


83 


reproducing  itself  in  particular  schools  and  particular  in¬ 
dividuals.  It  is  the  work  which  more  than  any  other 
one  production,  shaped  the  opinions  of  the  most  vigorous 
and  enthusiastic  of  English  historians,  the  late  Dr.  Ar¬ 
nold.  And  that  serious  spirit  which  we  find  in  the  sci¬ 
ence  itself  since  the  days  of  Niebuhr,  when  compared 
with  the  moral  indifference  characterizing  it  before  his 
day  and  to  a  great  extent  during  his  day,  is  to  be  traced 
to  his  reverent  recognition  of  a  personal  Deity  in  history, 
and  his  deep  belief  in  the  freedom  and  accountability  of 
man. 

But  the  man  himself,  as  well  as  his  works,  was  full  of 
life,  and  he  showed  it  nowhere  more  plainly  than  in  his 
direct  address  to  the  minds  of  his  pupils.  “  When  he 
spoke,”  says  one  of  them,  “  it  always  appeared  as  if  the 
rapidity  with  which  the  thoughts  occurred  to  him,  ob¬ 
structed  his  power  of  communicating  them  in  regular 
order  or  succession.  Nearly  all  his  sentences,  therefore, 
were  anacoluths ;  for,  before  having  finished  one,  he  be¬ 
gan  another,  perpetually  mixing  up  one  thought  with  an¬ 
other,  without  producing  any  one  in  its  complete  form. 
This  peculiarity  was  more  particularly  striking  when  he 
was  laboring  under  any  mental  excitement,  which  occur¬ 
red  the  oftener,  as,  with  his  great  sensitiveness,  he  felt 
that  warmth  of  interest  in  treating  of  the  history  of  past 
ages,  which  we  are  accustomed  to  witness  only  in  dis¬ 
cussions  on  the  political  affairs  of  our  own  time  and 
country.”  The  writer,  after  speaking  of  the  difficulty  of 
following  him,  owing  to  his  rapid,  and  it  should  be  ad¬ 
ded,  entirely  extemporaneous  delivery  (for  he  spoke  with¬ 
out  a  scrap  of  paper  before  him),  remarks,  that  “  notwith¬ 
standing  this  deficiency  of  Niebuhr  as  a  lecturer,  there 
was  an  indescribable  charm  in  the  manner  in  which  he 
treated  his  subject ;  the  warmth  of  his  feelings,  the  sym- 


84  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

pathy  which  he  felt  with  the  persons  and  things  he  wa? 
speaking  of,  his  strong  conviction  of  the  truth  of  what 
he  was  saying,  his  earnestness,  and,  above  all,  the  vivid¬ 
ness  with  which  he  conceived  and  described  the  charac¬ 
ters  of  the  most  prominent  men,  who  were  to  him  living 
realities,  with  souls,  feelings  and  passions  like  ourselves, 
carried  his  hearers  away,  and  produced  effects  which  are 
usually  the  results  only  of  the  most  powerful  oratory.*” 
How  different  from  all  this  is  the  impression  which  we 
receive  from  the  mind  of  one  who,  notwithstanding  his 
great  defects,  must  yet  thus  far  be  regarded  as  the  first  of 
English  historians ;  from  the  mind  of  Gibbon.  After  a 
candid  and  full  allowance  of  the  ability  of  that  mind  and 
the  great  value  of  the  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of 
Rome,  it  must  yet  be  said  that  it  was  not  a  vivid  and 
vital  mind,  nor  is  its  product.  The  autobiography  of 
Gibbon,  indeed,  exhibits  considerable  native  liveliness, 
but  the  perusal  of  his  history  does  not  even  suggest  the 
existence  of  such  qualities  as  earnestness  and  enthusiasm. 
One  is  disposed  to  conclude  from  the  picture  which  he 
gives  of  himself,  that  the  historian  had  been  endowed  by 
his  Maker  with  a  more  than  average  share  of  mental 
freshness  and  vitality,  and  most  certainly  if  there  had 
been  in  exercise  enough  of  this  quality  ;  enough  of  the  vis 
vivida  vitce;  to  have  vivified  his  immense  well-selected  and 
well-arranged  material,  he  would  have  approximated  near¬ 
er  than  he  has  to  the  ideal  of  historical  composition.  But 
there  was  not,  and,  therefore,  it  is,  that,  throughout  the 
whole  of  this  great  work,  there  reigns,  so  far  as  the  hu¬ 
man  and  moral  interest  of  history  is  concerned,  so  far 
as  all  its  higher  religious  problems  are  concerned,  an  ut¬ 
ter  sluggishness,  apathy,  and  lifelessness ;  an  apathy  and 


*  Dr.  Leonhard  Schmitz.  Preface  to  Yol.  IY.  of  Niebuhr’s  Rome. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


85 


lifelessness  as  deep,  unvarying,  and  monotonous,  as  if  the 
forces  of  the  period  he  described,  the  principles  of  decline 
and  decay,  had  passed  over  into  his  own  understanding 
and  made  it  the  theatre  of  their  operations.  We  doubt 
whether  there  is  another  work  in  any  literature  whatever, 
possessing  so  many  substantial  excellences,  and  yet  char¬ 
acterized  by  such  a  total  destitution  of  glowing  inspira¬ 
tion  and  earnest  enthusiasm,  as  the  History  of  the  De¬ 
cline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

The  explanation  of  this  fact  will  corroborate  the  truth 
of  the  position,  that  the  genuinely  historic  mind  is  the  only 
truly  living  and  enthusiastic  mind.  Though  nominally 
a  historian,  Gibbon  was  really  utterly  unhistorical  in  his 
spirit.  His  religious  scepticism,  besides  paralyzing  what¬ 
ever  natural  vigor  and  earnestness  of  conception  may  have 
originally  belonged  to  him,  made  it  impossible  for  him  to 
regard  the  processes  of  human  life  as  so  many  parts  of  one 
grand  plan  of  the  world  formed  by  one  supreme  presiding 
mind.  History  for  him,  consequently,  had  no  organization 
and  no  moral  significance.  It  was,  therefore,  strictly  speak¬ 
ing,  no  history  at  all  for  him  ;  no  course  of  development 
with  a  divine  plan  at  the  bottom  of  it  and  a  divine  pur¬ 
pose  at  the  termination  of  it.  It  was  neither  continuous  in 
its  nature,  nor  complete  in  its  spirit  and  tendency.  Every¬ 
thing  that  occurred  in  the  world  at  large,  or  among  a 
particular  people,  was  for  his  mind  irreferent,  discontinu¬ 
ous,  and  sporadic.  Not  only  did  he  fail  to  connect  the 
History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire 
with  the  general  history  of  the  race,  or  even  with  the 
general  history  of  Rome,  by  exhibiting  it  in  its  relation 
to  its  antecedents  and  consequents,  but  he  failed  even  to 
detect  the  historic  principle  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the 
particular  period  itself.  The  great  moral  and  political 
causes  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  empire,  do 


86  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

not  stand  out  in  bold  and  striking  relief  from  the  im 
mense  erudition  and  imposing  rhetoric  of  that  work. 
The  reflecting  reader,  at  the  close  of  its  perusal,  feels  the 
need  of  something  more  than  a  scenic  representation  of 
the  period;  something  more  than  the  pomp  of  a  panora¬ 
ma  ;  in  order  to  a  knowledge  of  the  deep  ground  of  all  this 
decline  and  decay.  He  needs,  in  short,  what  Gibbon 
does  not  furnish,  more  of  the  philosophy  of  that  organic 
decline,  drawn  from  a  profounder  view  of  the  nature 
of  man  and  of  human  life,  united  with  a  deeper  insight 
into  the  radical  defect  in  the  political  constitution  of  the 
"Roman  empire;  into  that  germ  of  corruption  which  came 
into  existence  immediately  after  the  subjugation  of  the 
Italian  tribes  was  completed,  and  in  which  the  entire 
millennium  of  decline  and  decay  lay  coiled  up. 

We  have  thus  far  discussed  the  nature  of  the  historic 
spirit  on  general  grounds.  We  have  mentioned  only 
those  general  characteristics  which  are  matters  of  inter¬ 
est  to  every  cultivated  mind ;  having  reference  chiefly  to 
secular  history  and  general  education.  We  have  now  to 
speak  of  the  importance  of  this  spirit  to  the  theologian, 
and  must,  therefore,  discuss  its  more  special  nature,  with 
a  prevailing  reference  to  Ecclesiastical  History  and  Theo¬ 
logical  Education. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  treatment  of  this  part  of  the 
subject,  it  seems  necessary  to  direct  attention,  for  a  mo¬ 
ment,  to  the  distinguishing  difference  between  Secular 
and  Church  history. 

Our  Lord,  in  the  most  distinct  manner,  and  repeatedly, 
affirms  that  His  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.  Through¬ 
out  the  Scriptures  the  church  and  the  world  are  opposed 
to  each  other  as  direct  contraries,  mutually  exclusive  and 
expulsive  of  each  other,  so  that  “  all  that  is  in  the  world  is 
not  of  the  Father,  but  is  of  the  world.”  There  are,  therefore. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


ST 


two  kingdoms,  two  courses  of  development,  two  histo¬ 
ries.  in  the  universal  history  of  man  on  the  Mobe.  There 

7  4/  O 

is  the  account  of  the  natural  and  spontaneous  develop¬ 
ment  of  human  nature  as  left  to  itself,  guided  only  by 
the  dictates  of  finite  reason  and  impelled  by  the  determi¬ 
nation  of  the  free,  but  fallen,  human  will,  and  the  im¬ 
pulses  of  human  passion.  And  there  is  the  history  of 
that  supernatural  and  gracious  development  of  human 
nature  which  has  been  begun  and  carried  forward  by 
means  of  a  revelation  from  the  Divine  Mind  made  effec¬ 
tual  by  the  direct  efficiency  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  The 
fact  of  sin,  and  the  fact  of  redemption,  constitute  the 
substance  of  that  great  historic  process  which  is  involv¬ 
ed  in  the  origin,  growth  and  final  triumph  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  church.  Had  there  been  no  fall  of  man,  there  would 
have  b^en  but  one  stream  of  history.  The  spontaneou 
development  of  the  human  race  would  have  been  normal 
and  perfect,  and  there  would  have  been  no  such  distinc¬ 
tion  between  the  church  and  world  as  is  recognized  in 
Scripture.  The  race  would  not  have  been  broken  apart ; 
one  portion  being  left  to  a  merely  human  and  entirely 
false  development,  and  the  other  portion  being  renovated 
and  started  upon  a  spiritual  and  heavenward  career  by 
the  electing  love  of  God.  But  sin  in  this,  as  in  all  its 
aspects,  is  dissension  and  dismemberment.  The  original 
unity  of  the  race,  so  far  as  a  common  religious  character 
and  a  common  blessed  destiny  are  concerned ,  is  destroyed, 
and  the  two  halves  of  one  being,  to  borrow^  an  illustra¬ 
tion  from  the  Platonic  myth,  are  now  and  forever  sepa¬ 
rated.  The  original  single  stream  of  human  history  was 
parted  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  became  into  two 
heads,  which  have  flowed  on,  each  in  its  own  channel, 
and  will  continue  to  do  so,  forevermore.  For,  although 
the  church  is  to  encroach  upon  the  world,  in  the  future, 


88 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


to  an  extent  far  surpassing  anything  that  appears  in  the 
present  and  the  past,  we  know,  from  the  very  best  au¬ 
thority,  that  sin  is  to  be  an  eternal  fact  in  the  universe 
of  God,  and  as  such  must  have  its  own  awful  and 
isolated  development;  its  own  awful  and  isolated  history. 

In  passing,  therefore,  from  secular  to  church  history, 
we  pass  from  the  domain  of  merely  human  and  sinful, 
to  that  of  truly  divine  and  holy,  agencies.  The  subject- 
matter  becomes  extraordinary.  The  basis  of  fact  in  the 
career  of  the  church  is  supernatural  in  both  senses  of  the 
word.  From  the  expulsion  from  Eden  down  to  the  close 
of  miracles  in  the  apostolic  age,  a  positively  miraculous 
intervention  of  Divine  power  lies  under  the  series  of 
events ;  momentarily  withdrawn  and  momentarily  reap¬ 
pearing,  throughout  the  long  line  of  Patriarchal,  Jewish 
and  Apostolic  history ;  the  very  intermittency  of  the  ac¬ 
tion  indicating,  like  an  Icelandic  Geyser,  the  reality  and 
constant  proximity  of  the  power.  And  if  we  pass  from 
external  events  to  that  inward  change  that  was  con¬ 
stantly  brought  about  in  human  character  by  which  the 
church  was  called  out  from  the  mass  of  men  and  made 
to  live  and  grow  in  the  midst  of  an  ignorant  or  a  culti¬ 
vated  heathenism ;  if  we  pass  from  the  miraculous  to  the 
simply  spiritual  manifestation  of  the  Divine  agency  as  it  is 
seen  in  the  inward  life  of  the  church,  we  find  that  we  are 
in  a  far  higher  sphere  than  that  of  secular  history.  There 
is  now  a  positive  intercommunication  between  the  hu¬ 
man  and  the  Divine  mind,  and  the  development  which 
results  constitutes  a  history  far  profounder,  far  purer  and 
holier,  far  more  encouraging  and  glorious,  than  that  of 
the  natural  man  and  the  secular  world. 

It  is  upon  the  fact  of  this  direct  and  supernatural  com¬ 
munication  of  the  Supreme  mind  to  the  human  mind, 
and  this  direct  agency  of  the  Divine  Spirit  upon  the  hu- 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


89 


man  soul,  that  we  would  take 'our  stand  as  the  point  of 
departure  in  the  remainder  of  this  discussion.  In  treat¬ 
ing  of  secular  history,  we  have  regarded  the  unaided  rea¬ 
son  of  man  as  the  source  and  origin  of  the  development. 
We  do  not  find  in  the  history  of  the  world,  as  the  Scrip¬ 
tural  antithesis  of  the  church,  any  evidence  of  any  spe¬ 
cial  and  direct  intercommunication  between  man  and 
God.  We  find  only  the  ordinary  workings  of  the  hu¬ 
man  mind  and  such  products  as  are  confessedly  within 
its  competence  to  originate.  We  can,  indeed,  see  the 
hand  of  an  overruling  Providence  throughout  this  realm, 
employed  chiefly  in  restraining  the  wrath  of  man,  but 
through  the  whole  long  course  of  development  we  see  no 
signs  or  products  of  a  supernatural  and  peculiar  inter¬ 
ference  of  God  in  the  affairs  of  men.  Empires  rise  and 
fall ;  arts  and  sciences  bloom  and  decay  ;  the  poet  dreams 
his  dream  of  the  ideal,  and  the  philosopher  develops 
and  tasks  the  utmost  possibility  of  the  finite  reason  ;  and 
still,  so  far  as  its  highest  interests  are  concerned,  the  con¬ 
dition  and  history  of  the  race  remain  substantially  the 
same.  It  is  not  until  a  communication  is  established 
between  the  mind  of  man  and  the  mind  of  God ;  it  is  not 
until  the  Creator  comes  down  by  miracle  and  by  revela¬ 
tion,  by  incarnation  and  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  a  new 
order  of  ages  and  a  new  species  of  history  begins. 

The  Scriptures,  therefore,  as  the  revelation  of  the 
Eternal  Mind,  take  the  place  of  human  reason  within 
the  sphere  of  church  history.  The  individual  man  sus¬ 
tains  the  same  relation  to  the  Bible,  in  the  sacred  historic 
process,  that  he  does  to  natural  reason  in  the  secular. 
The  theologian  expects  to  find  in  the  history  of  the 
church  that  same  comprehensive  and  approximately 
exhaustive  development  and  realization  of  Scripture 
truth,  which  the  philosopher  hopes  to  find  of  the  finite 


90  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

reason  in  the  secular  history  of  the  race.  It  follows,  con¬ 
sequently,  that  all  that  has  been  said  of  the  influence  of 
historical  studies  upon  the  literary  man,  applies  with  full 
force,  when  the  distinguishing  difference  between  secular 
and  sacred  history  has  been  taken  into  account,  to  the 
education  and  culture  of  the  theologian.  The  same 
spirit  will  work  with  the  same  results  in  both  depart¬ 
ments  of  knowledge,  and  the  theologian,  like  the  literary 
man,  will  become,  in  his  own  intellectual  domain,  both 
reverent  and  vigilant ;  both  recipient  and  original ;  both 
deliberate  and  enthusiastic ;  as  his  mind  feels  the  influ¬ 
ences  that  come  off  from  the  history  of  the  Christian 
religion  and  the  Christian  church. 

Without,  therefore,  going  again  over  the  ground  which 
we  have  travelled  in  the  first  part  of  the  discourse,  let  us 
leave  the  general  influences  and  characteristics  of  the 
historic  spirit,  and  proceed  to  consider  some  of  the  most 
important  of  its  specific  influences  within  the  depart¬ 
ment  of  theology  and  upon  theological  education.  And, 
that  we  may  not  be  embarrassed  by  the  attempt  to  make 
use  of  all  the  materials  that  crowd  in  upon  the  mind  on 
all  sides,  and  from  all  parts,  of  this  encyclopaedic  subject, 
let  us  leave  altogether  untouched  the  external  career  of 
the  church,  and  keep  chiefly  in  view  that  most  interest¬ 
ing  and  important  branch  of  the  department  which  is 
denominated  Doctrinal  Church  History. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  a  historic  spirit  within  the  depart¬ 
ment  of  theology  promotes  Scripturality. 

We  have  already  mentioned  that  the  distinctive  char¬ 
acter  of  church  history  arises  from  the  special  presence 
and  agency  of  the  Divine  Mind  in  the  world.  Subtract 
that  presence,  and  that  agency,  and  nothing  is  left  but 
the  spontaneous  development  of  the  natural  man  ;  noth¬ 
ing  is  left  but  secular  history.  Divine  revelation,  using 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


91 


the  term  in  its  widest  signification,  to  denote  the  entire 
communication  of  God  to  man  in  the  economy  of  grace, 
is  the  principle  and  germ  of  church  history.  That  shap¬ 
ing  of  human  events,  and  that  formation  and  moulding 
of  human  character,  which  has  resulted  from  the  coven¬ 
ant  of  redemption,  is  the  substance  of  sacred  history.  The 
church  is  the  concrete  and  realized  plan  of  redemption  ; 
and  what  is  the  plan  of  redemption  but  the  sum-total  of 
revelations  which  have  been  made  to  man  by  the  Jehovah 
of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  Incarnate  Word  of  the 
New,  the  infallible  record  of  which  is  unchangeably  fixed 
in  the  Scriptures?  It  follows,  therefore,  that  the  true 

and  full  history  of  the  church  of  God  on  earth  will  be 

%/ 

the  Scriptures  in  the  concrete.  The  plant  is  only  the 
unfolded  germ. 

There  is,  consequently,  no  surer  way  to  fill  systematic 
theology  with  a  Scriptural  substance  than  to  subject  it 
to  the  influence  of  historical  studies.  As  the  theologian 
passes  the  several  ages  of  the  church  in  review,  and 
becomes  acquainted  with  the  results  to  which  the  general 
mind  of  the  church  has  come  in  interpreting  the  Scrip¬ 
tures,  he  runs  little  hazard  of  error  in  regard  to  their  real 
teaching  and  contents.  As  in  the  domain  of  secular  his- 
tory  we  found  that  there  was  little  danger  of  missing  the 
true  teachings  of  human  reason,  if  we  collect  them  from 
the  continuous  and  self-defecating  development  of  ages 
and  epochs,  so  in  the  domain  of  sacred  history  we  shall 
find  that  the  real  mind  of  the  Spirit,  the  real  teaching  of 
Scripture,  comes  out  plainer  and  clearer  in  the  general 
growth  and  development  of  the  Christian  mind.  Indeed 
we  may  regard  church  history,  so  far  as  it  is  mental  and 
inward  in  its  nature  ;  so  far  as  it  is  the  record  of  a  mental 
inquiry  into  the  nature  of  Christianity  and  the  contents 
of  the  Bible ;  as  being  as  near  to  the  infallibility  of  the 


92  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

written  revelation,  as  anything  that  is  still  imperfect  and 
fallible  can  be.  The  church  is  not  infallible  and  nevei 
can  be ;  but  it  is  certainly  not  a  very  bold  or  dangerous 
affirmation  to  say  that  the  church,  the  entire  body  of 
Christ,  is  wiser  than  any  one  of  its  members,  and  that 
the  whole  series  of  ages  and  generations  of  believers 
have  penetrated  more  deeply  into  the  substance  of  the 
Christian  religion  and  have  come  nearer  to  an  approxi¬ 
mate  exhaustion  of  Scripture  truth,  than  any  single  age 
or  single  believer  has. 

So  far,  therefore,  as  a  theological  system  contains  his¬ 
torical  elements,  it  is  likely  to  contain  Scriptural  elements. 
So  far  as  its  statements  of  doctrine  coincide  with  those 
of  the  creeds  and  symbols  in  which  the  wise,  the  learned, 
and  the  holy,  of  all  ages  have  embodied  the  results  of 
their  continuous  and  self-correcting  study  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures,  so  far  it  may  be  expected  to  coincide  with  the 
substance  of  inspiration  itself. 

Again,  there  is  no  surer  way  to  imbue  the  theologian 
himself  with  a  Scriptural  spirit  than  to  subject  his  mind 
to  the  full  influence  of  a  course  of  study  in  the  history  of 
the  Christian  religion  and  church.  This  is  one  of  the 
best  means  which  the  individual  mind  can  employ  to 
reach  the  true  end  of  a  theological  education ;  which  is 
to  get  within  the  circle  of  inspired  minds  and  see  the 
truth  exactly  as  they  saw  it.  We  believe,  as  the  church 
has  always  believed,  that  the  inspired  writers  were 
qualified  and  authorized  to  speak  upon  the  subject  of 
religion  as  no  other  human  minds  have  been.  They 
were  the  subjects  of  an  illumination  clearer  and  brighter 
than  that  of  the  purest  Christian  experience ;  and  of  a 
revelation  that  put  them  in  possession  of  truths  that  are 
absolutely  beyond  the  ken  of  the  wisest  human  mind.  — 
Within  that  inspired  circle,  therefore,  there  was  a  body 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


93 


of  knowledge  intrinsically  inaccessible  to  the  human 

ZD  %J 

mind;  beyond  the  reach  of  its  subtlest  investigation,  or 
its  purest  self-development.  If  those  supernaturally  taught 
minds  had  been  prevented  from  fixing  their  knowledge  in 
a  written  form  ;  or  if  the  written  revelation  had  perished 
like  the  lost  books  of  Livy ;  the  human  mind  of  the 
nineteenth  century  would  have  known  no  more  upon 
moral  and  religious  subjects,  for  substance,  than  the 
human  mind  of  a  Plato  or  Aristotle  knew  twenty-two 
centuries  ago.  For  he  must  have  an  extravagant  esti¬ 
mate  of  the  inherent  capacities  of  the  Unite  mind,  who 
supposes  that  the  rolling  round  of  two  millenniums,  or 
of  ten,  would  have  witnessed  in  any  one  individual  case, 
a  more  central,  or  a  more  defecated,  development  of  the 
pure  rationality  of  mere  man  than  was  witnessed  in 
Aristotle.  And  he  must  have  a  very  ardent  belief  in  the 
omnipotence  of  the  finite,  who  supposes,  that,  without 
that  communication  of  truth  and  of  spirit ;  of  light  and 
of  life ;  which  God  in  Christ  has  made  to  the  race,  ages 
upon  ages  of  merely  spontaneous  and  secular  history 
would  have  produced  a  more  beautiful  development  of 
the  human  imagination  than  appears  in  the  Grecian  Art 
and  Literature,  or  a  more  profound  development  of  the 
human  reason  than  appears  in  the  Grecian  Philosophy 
and  the  Grecian  Ethics. 

The  Scriptures  have,  accordingly,  been  the  source  of 
religious  knowledge  and  progress  for  the  Christian,  as 
antithetic  to  the  secular,  mind,  and  will  continue  to  be, 
until  they  are  superseded  by  some  other  and  fuller  reve¬ 
lation  in  another  mode  of  being  than  that  of  earth.  It 
has,  consequently,  been  the  aim  and  endeavor  of  the 
church  in  all  ages,  to  be  Scriptural ;  to  work  itself  into 
the  very  heart  of  the  written  revelation  ;  to  stand  upon 
the  very  same  point  of  view  with  the  few  inspired  minds, 


94  THE  NATURE)  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

and  see  objects  precisely  as  they  saw  them.  But  this, 
though  possible  and  a  duty,  is  no  easy  task,  as  the  whole 
history  of  Christian  doctrines  shows.  Truth  in  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  is  full  and  entire.  The  Scriptural  idea  is  never 
defective,  but  contains  all  the  elements.  Hence  its  very 
perfection  and  completeness  is  an  obstacle  to  its  full 
apprehension.  It  is  difficult  for  the  human  mind  to  take 
in  the  whole  great  thought.  It  is^  often  exceedingly  diffi¬ 
cult  for  the  human  mind  oppressed,  first,  by  the  vastness 
and  mystery  of  the  revealed  truth,  and,  secondly,  by  its 
own  singular  tendency  to  one-sided  and  imperfect  per¬ 
ception,  to  gather  the  full  idea  from  the  artless  and 
unsystematized  contents  of  Scripture,  and  then  state  it 
in  the  imperfect  language  of  man.  The  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  for  example,  is  fully  revealed  in  the  Bible.  All 
the  elements  of  that  great  mystery  ;  the  whole  truth  res¬ 
pecting  the  real  triune  nature  of  God,  may  be  found  in 
that  book.  But  the  elements  are  uncombined  and 
unexpanded,  and  hence  one  source  of  the  heresies  respect¬ 
ing  this  doctrine.  Arius  and  Sabellius  both  appealed  to 
Scripture.  Neither  of  them  took  the  position  of  the 
infidel.  Each  acknowledged  the  authority  of  the  written 
word,  and  endeavored  to  support  his  position  from  it. — 
But  in  these  instances  the  individual  mind  merely  picked 
up  Scriptural  elements  as  they  lie  scattered  upon  the 
page  and  in  the  letter  of  Scripture,  and,  without  com¬ 
bining  them  with  others  that  lie  just  as  plainly  upon  the 
very  same  pages,  moulded  them  into  a  defective,  and 
therefore  erroneous,  statement.  Heresy  is  individual 
and  not  historic  in  its  nature. 

Now  it  is  the  characteristic  of  the  general  mind  of  the 
church  ;  of  the  historic  Christian  mind ;  that  it  reproduces 
in  its  intuition,  and  in  its  statement,  the  complex  and 
complete  Scriptural  idea.  So  far  as  it  has  any  intuition 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT, 


95 


at  all,  it  sees  all  the  sides ;  so  far  as  it  makes  any  state¬ 
ment  at  all,  it  brings  into  it  all  the  fundamentals.  By 
this  is  not  meant  that  even  the  mind  of  the  church  has 
perfected  the  expansion  of  Scripture  elements  and  made 
the  fullest  possible  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity.  There  may,  possibly,  be  a  further  exhaustion 
of  the  contents  of  revelation  in  this  direction.  There 
may,  possibly,  be  a  statement  of  this  doctrine  that  will 
be  yet  fuller ;  still  closer  up  to  the  Scriptural  matter  ; 
than  that  one  which  the  church  has  generally  accepted 
since  the  date  of  the  Councils  of  Nice  and  Constanti¬ 
nople.  But  there  will  never  be  a  form  of  statement  that 
will  flatly  contradict  this  form,  or  that  will  add  any  new 
fundamentals  to  it.  All  that  is  new  and  different  must 
be  in  the  way  of  expansion  and  not  of  addition ;  in  the 
way  of  development  and  not  of  denial.  A  closer  study 
of  the  teachings  of  Scripture,  and  a  deeper  reflection 
upon  them,  may  carry  the  theological  mind  further  along 
on  the  line,  but  will  give  it  no  diagonal  or  retrograde 
movement. 

Now  is  it  not  perfectly  plain  that  the  close  and 
thorough  study  of  this  continuous  and  self-correcting 
endeavor  of  the  Christian  church  to  enucleate  the  real 
meaning  of  Scripture ;  an  endeavor  which  has  been  put 
forth  by  the  wisest,  the  most  reverent,  and  the  holiest, 
minds  in  its  history,  tasking  their  own  powers  to  the 
utmost,  and  invoking  and  receiving  Divine  illumination, 
during  the  whole  of  the  process  ;  an  endeavor  which  has 
to  a  great  extent  formed  and  fixed  the  religious  experi¬ 
ence  of  ages  and  generations,  by  its  results  embodied  in 
the  creeds  and  svmbols  of  the  church  :  a  series  of  mental 
constructions,  which,  even  if  we  contemplate  only  their 
human  characteristics,  their  scientific  coherence  and  sys- 
tematic  compactness,  are  more  than  worthy  to  be.  placed 


96 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


side  by  side  with  the  best  dialectics  of  the  secular  mind 
is  it  not  perfectly  plain,  we  say,  that  the  close  and  tho 
rough  study  of  such  a  strenuous  endeavor,  as  this  has 
been,  to  reach  the  inmost  heart  and  fibre  of  Scripture, 
will  tend  irresistibly  to  render  the  theologian  Scriptural 
in  head  and  in  heart  ?  May  we  not  expect  that  such  a 
student  will  be  intensely  Scriptural  ?  Will  not  this  dis¬ 
tinct  and  thorough  knowledge  of  revelation  be  so  wrought 
into  his  mental  texture  that -he  will  see  and  judge  of 
everything  through  this  medium  ?  Will  he  not  have  so 
thought  in  that  same  range  and  region  in  which  his 
inspired  teachers  thought,  that  doubt  and  perplexity  in 
regard  to  Divine  revelation  would  be  nearly  as  impossible 
for  him,  as  for  Isaiah  while  under  the  Divine  afflatus,  or 
for  Paul  when  in  the  third  heavens  ?  To  borrow  an 
illustration  from  the  kindred  science  of  Law  :  if  it  is  the 
effect  of  the  continued  and  thoughtful  study  of  Law 
Reports  and  Political  Constitutions  and  Commentaries 
upon  Political  Constitutions  ;  a  body  of  literature  which, 
as  it  originates  out  of  the  organic  idea  of  law,  breathes 
the  purest  spirit  of  the  legal  reason ;  if  it  is  the  effect  of 
such  study  to  render  the  individual  mind  legal  and  judi¬ 
cial  in  its  tone  and  temper,  must  it  not  be  the  effect  of 
the  study  of  that  body  of  symbolic  literature  which  has 
come  slowly  but  consecutively  into  existence  through  the 
endeavor  of  the  theological  mind  to  reach  a  perfect 
understanding  of  Scripture,  to  render  the  individual  mind 
Scriptural  in  its  tone  and  temper  ? 

II.  And  this  leads  us  to  say,  in  the  second  place,  that 
a  historic  spirit  in  the  theologian,  induces  a  correct  esti¬ 
mate  of  Creeds  and  Systematic  Theology. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  in  the  present 
condition  of  the  theological  world  is  a  revived  interest  in 
the  department  of  church  history.  This  interest  has  been 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


97 


slowly  increasing  for  the  last  half  century,  and  promises 
to  become  a  leading  interest  for  some  time  to  come.  In 
Germany,  in  America,  and  in  England,  scholars  and 
thinking  men  are  turning  their  attention  away,  some¬ 
what,  from  the  purely  secular  history  of  mankind,  to  that 
more  solemn  and  momentous  career  which  a  part  of  the 
human  family  have  been  running  for  nearly  six  thousand 
years.  They  have  become  aware  that  the  history  of  the 
church  of  God  is  a  peculiar  movement  that  has  been 
silently  going  on  in  the  heart  of  the  race  from  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  time,  and  which,  while  it  has  not  by  any  means 
left  the  secular  historic  processes  untouched  and  unaf¬ 
fected,  has  yet  kept  on  in  its  own  solitary  and  sublime 
line  of  direction.  They  are  now  disposed  to  look  and 
see  how  and  where 


the  sacred  river  ran 
Through  caverns  measureless  to  man 
Down  to  the  sunlit  sea. 


But  it  would  be  an  error  to  suppose  that  this  interest 
has  been  awakened  merely  or  mainly  by  the  external  his¬ 
tory  of  the  Christian  Church.  u  The  battles,  sieges,  for¬ 
tunes  it  hath  passed  ;  ”  its  conflicts  with  persecuting  Pa¬ 
ganism,  Mohammedanism,  and  Romanism ;  its  influence 
upon  art,  upon  literature  and  science,  upon  society  and 
government ;  these  are  not  the  charm  which  is  now 
drawing  as  by  a  spell  the  best  thinking  of  Christendom 
towards  church  history.  It  is  not  the  secular  and  worldly 
elements  in  this  history  into  which  the  mind  of  the  time 
most  desires  to  look.  The  great  march  of  profane  his¬ 
tory  brings  to  view  a  pomp  and  prodigality  of  such  ele¬ 
ments  that  has  already  dulled  and  satiated  the  tired  sen¬ 
sibilities.  Thinking  minds  now  desire  to  look  into  the 
distinctively  supernatural  elements  in  this  historic  pro- 


98 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

cess ;  to  see  if  it  really  has,  as  it  claims  to  have,  a  direct 
connection  with  the  Creator  of  the  race  and  the  Author 
of  the  human  mind.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  revived 
interest  in  this  department  of  knowledge  has  shown  it¬ 
self  most  powerfully  and  influentially  in  investigating  the 
origin  and  nature  of  the  doctrines  of  the  church,  as  they 
are  found  speculatively  in  creeds  and  symbols,  and  prac¬ 
tically  in  the  Christian  consciousness.  The  mind  ot 
Germany,  for  example,  after  ranging  over  the  whole  field 
of  cultivated  heathenism,  and  sounding  the  lowest  depths 
of  the  finite  reason,  in  a  vain  search  for  that  absolute 
truth  in  which  alone  the  human  soul  can  rest,  has  be¬ 
taken  itself  to  the  domain  of  Christian  revelation  and 
Christian  history.  Its  interest  in  Greek  and  Roman  cul¬ 
ture,  in  Mediaeval  Art,  and  in  its  own  speculative  sys¬ 
tems,  has  given  way  to  a  deeper  interest  in  the  Christian 
religion ;  in  some  instances  with  a  clear  perception,  in 
others  with  a  dim  intimation,  that,  if  the  truth  which  the 
human  mind  needs,  is  not  to  be  found  here,  the  last  re¬ 
source  has  failed ;  and  that  then 

The  pillared  firmament  is  rottenness 

And  earth’s  base  built  on  stubble. 

This  revived  interest  in  church  history,  therefore,  is  in 
reality  a  search  after  truth,  rather  than  after  a  mere  dra¬ 
matic  scene  or  spectacle.  The  mind  of  the  time  is  anx¬ 
ious  to  understand  that  revealed  doctrinal  system ,  which 
it  now  sees,  has,  from  the  beginning,  been  the  “  rock  ”  on 
which  the  church  of  God  has  been  founded,  and  the 
“  quarry”  out  of  which  it  has  been  built.  Knowing  this, 
it  believes  it  will  then  have  the  key  to  the  process. 
Knowing  this,  it  believes  it  will  know  the  whole  secret ; 
the  secret  of  that  charmed  life  which  has  borne  the  church 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


99 


of  God  through  all  the  mutations  and  extinctions  of  sec¬ 
ular  history,  and  that  unearthly  life  which  in  all  ages  has 
secured  to  the  believer  a  serene  or  an  ecstatic  passage 
into  the  unknown  and  dreadful  future. 

Now  this  interest  in  a  doctrinal  system,  which  thus  lies 
at  the  bottom  of  this  general  interest  in  church  history, 
will  be  shared  by  the  individual  student.  He,  too,  can¬ 
not  stop  with  the  scene,  the  spectacle,  the  drama.  He, 
too,  cannot  stop  with  those  characteristics  which  ecclesi¬ 
astical  history  has  in  common  with  secular,  but  will  pass 
on  to  those  which  are  distinctive  and  peculiar.  For  him, 
too,  the  history  of  a  single  mind,  like  that  of  Augustine 
or  Anselm ;  or  of  a  single  doctrine,  like  that  of  the 
Atonement  or  of  the  Trinity;  will  have  a  charm  and 
fruitfulness  not  to  be  found  in  the  entire  rise  of  the 
worldly  Papacy,  or  in  centuries  of  merely  external  and 
earthly  movement  like  the  Crusades.  The  whole  influ¬ 
ence  of  his  studies  in  this  direction  will  be  spiritual  and 
spiritualizing. 

But,  without  enlarging  upon  the  general  nature  of  the 
estimate  which  the  historic  spirit  puts  upon  the  internal 
as  compared  with  the  external  history  of  the  church,  let 
us  notice  two  particulars  which  fall  under  this  head. 

1.  Notice,  first,  the  interest  awakened  by  historical 
studies  in  the  creeds  and  svmbols  of  the  Christian  church 
as  containing  the  Philosophy  of  Christianity. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  symbolic  literature  of  the 
Christian  church  as  a  growth  out  of  Scripture  soil ;  as  a 
fruitage  full  of  the  flavor  and  juices  of  its  germ.  A 
Christian  creed  is  not  the  product  of  the  individual,  or  the 
general,  human  mind  evolving  out  of  itself  those  truths 
of  natural  reason  and  natural  religion  which  are  connate 
and  inborn.  It  is  not  the  self-development  of  the  human 
mind,  but  the  development  of  Scripture  matter.  The 


100  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

Christian  mind,  as  we  have  seen,  is  occupied,  from  age 
to  age,  with  an  endeavor  to  fathom  the  depths  of  Divine 
revelation ;  to  make  the  fullest  possible  expression  and  ex¬ 
pansion  of  all  the  truths  that  have  been  communicated 
from  God  to  man.  This  endeavor  necessarily  assumes  a 
scientific  form.  The  practical  explanation,  illustration,  and 
application,  is  going  on  continually  in  the  popular  repre¬ 
sentations  of  the  pulpit  and  the  sermon,  but  this  cannot 
satisfy  all  the  wants  of  the  church.  Simultaneously  with 
this  there  is  a  constant  effort  to  obtain  a  still  more  scien¬ 
tific  apprehension  of  Scripture  and  make  a  still  more  full 
and  self-consistent  statement  of  its  contents.  The  Chris¬ 
tian  mind,  as  well  as  the  secular,  is  scientific  ;  has  a  scien¬ 
tific  feeling,  and  scientific  wants.  A  creed  is  as  necessary 
to  a  theologian,  as  a  philosophical  system  is  to  the  secu¬ 
lar  student. 

It  follows,  therefore,  that  the  philosophy,  by  which  is 
meant  the  rationality,  of  the  Christian  religion,  is  to  be 
found  in  these  creeds  and  symbols.  For  reasonableness 
and  self-consistence  are  qualities  not  to  be  carried  into 
Christianity  from  without,  as  if  they  were  not  to  be 
found  in  it,  but  to  be  brought  out  from  within,  because 
they  belong  to  its  intrinsic  nature.  The  philosophy,  that 
is,  the  rational  necessity,  of  the  Christian  religion,  is  not 
an  importation  but  an  evolution.  This  religion  is  to  be 
taken  just  as  it  is  given  in  the  Scriptures ;  just  as  it  re¬ 
appears  in  the  close  and  systematic  statement  of  the 
creeds  ;  and  its  intrinsic  truth  and  reasonableness  evinced 
by  what  it  furnishes  itself.  For  whoever  shows  the  in¬ 
ward  necessity  and  reasonableness  of  a  Doctrine  of 
Christianity  does  by  the  very  act  and  fact  show  the  har¬ 
mony  of  philosophy  and  religion.  Whoever  takes  a  doc¬ 
trine  of  Christianity  and  without  anxiously  troubling  him¬ 
self  with  the  tenets  of  this  or  that  particular  philosophical 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


101 


system,  derives  out  of  the  very  elements  of  the  doctrine 
and  the  very  terms  of  the  statement  itself,  a  reasonableness 
that  irresistibly  commends  itself  to  the  spontaneous  rea¬ 
son  and  instinctive  judgment  of  universal  man,  by  this 
very  process  demonstrates  the  inward ,  central ,  unity  of 
faith  and  reason.  Instead,  therefore,  of  setting  the  two 
sciences  over  against  each  other  and  endeavoring,  by 
modifications  upon  one  or  both  sides,  to  bring  about  the 
adjustment,  the  theologian  should  take  the  Christian  sys¬ 
tem  precisely  as  it  is  given  in  Scripture,  in  all  its  com¬ 
prehension,  depth,  and  strictness,  and  without  being 
diverted  by  any  side  references  to  particular  philosophi¬ 
cal  schools,  simply  exhibit  the  intrinsic  truthfulness,  ra¬ 
tionality,  and  necessity,  of  the  system.  In  this  way  he 
establishes  the  position,  that  philosophy  and  revelation 
are  harmonious,  in  a  manner  that  admits  of  no  contra¬ 
diction.  The  greater  necessarily  includes  the  less.  When 
the  theologian  has  demonstrated  the  inward  necessity  of 
Christianity,  out  of  its  own  self-sufficient  and  indepen¬ 
dent  rationality,  his  demonstration  is  perfect.  For  rea¬ 
son  cannot  be  contrary  to  reason.  A  rational  necessity 
anywhere,  is  a  philosophical  necessity  everywhere. 

The  correctness  of  this  method  of  finding  and  estab¬ 
lishing  the  rationality  of  Christianity,  is  beginning  to  be 
acknowledged  in  that  country  where  the  conflict  between 
reason  and  revelation  has  been  hottest.  It  begins  to  be 
seen  that  the  harmony  between  philosophy  and  Chris¬ 
tianity  is  not  to  be  brought  about,  by  first  assuming  that 
the  infallibility  is  on  the  side  of  the  human  reason  ;  and 
that,  too,  as  it  appears  in  a  single  and  particular  philo¬ 
sophical  system  ;  and  then  insisting  that  all  the  adjust¬ 
ment,  conformity,  and  coalescence,  shall  be  on  the  side 
of  the  Divine  revelation.  It  begins  to  be  seen  that  phi¬ 
losophy  is  in  realitv  an  abstract  and  universal  term 


102 


THE  NATURE,  AND  am  FL.tftiN'Sr.,  OT 


which,  by  its  very  etymology,  denotes,  not  that  it  has 
already  attained  and  now  possesses  the  truth,  but  that  it 
is  seeking  for  it.*  It  begins  to  be  seen  that  both  Aris¬ 
totle  and  Bacon  were  right  in  calling  it  an  organon ;  an 
instrument  for  getting  at  the  truth,  and  neither  the  truth 
itself  nor  even  its  containing  source.f  It  begins  to  be 
seen  that  philosophy  is  only  another  term  for  rationality, 
and  that  to  exhibit  the  philosophy  of  a  department,  like 
religion,  or  history,  or  philosophy,  or  natural  science,  is 
simply  to  exhibit  the  real  and  reasonable  truth  that  is  in 
it.  It  begins  to  be  seen,  consequently,  that  each  branch 
of  knowledge,  each  subject  of  investigation,  must  be  treat¬ 
ed  genetically  in  order  to  be  treated  philosophically ; 
must  be  allowed  to  furnish  its  own  matter,  make  its  own 
statements,  out  of  which,  and  not  out  of  what  may  be 
carried  over  into  it  from  some  other  quarter,  its  accept¬ 
ance  or  its  rejection  by  the  human  mind  should  be  de¬ 
termined. 

We  are  aware  that  the  barrenness  of  those  later  systems 
of  speculative  philosophy,  with  which  the  German  mind 
has  been  so  intensely  busied  for  the  last  fifty  years,  has 
been  one  great  means  of  bringing  it  back  to  this  moderate 
and  true  estimate  of  the  nature  and  functions  of  philoso¬ 
phy;  but  this  revived  interest  in  the  history  of  Christianity 


*  The  love  of  wisdom,  implies  a  present  seeking  for  it. 

t  Kant,  says  William  Humboldt,  did  not  so  much  teach  philosophy,  as  how 
to  philosophize.  Correspondence  with  Schiller :  Vorerinnerung. 

It  is  the  greatest  merit  of  Schleiermaeher  that  he  saw  and  asserted  the 
independent  and  self-subsistent  position  of  Christian  theology  in  relation  to 
philosophical  systems.  If  he  had  sought  the  sources  of  this  theology  more 
in  the  objective  revelation  and  less  in  the  subjective  Christian  conscious¬ 
ness,  he  would  have  accomplished  more  than  he  has  towards  evincing  the 
harmony  of  the  two  sciences,  while  his  own  system  would  have  had  more 
agreement  than  it  now  has  with  the  general  theology  of  the  Christian 
thurch. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


103 


and  profounder  study  of  its  symbols,  has  also  contribut¬ 
ed,  greatly,  to  produce  this  disposition  to  let  revealed 
religion  stand  or  fall  upon  its  own  merits.  For  this 
study  has  disclosed  the  fact  that  it  has  philosophical  and 
scientific  merits  of  its  own ;  that,  in  the  unsystematized 
statements  and  simple  but  prolific  teachings  of  the  Bible, 
there  lies  the  substance  of  a  system  deeper  and  wider  and 
loftier  than  the  whole  department  of  philosophy,  and 
that  this  substance  has  actually  been  expanded  and  com 
billed  by  the  historic  mind  of  the  church  into  a  series  of 
doctrines  respecting  the  nature  of  God  and  man  and  the 
universe  with  their  mutual  relations,  with  which  the  cor¬ 
responding  statements  upon  the  same  subjects,  of  the 
Greek  Theism  or  the  German  Pantheism  cannot  com¬ 
pare  for  a  moment.  Probably  nothing  has  done  more  to 
exhibit  the  Christian  system  in  its  true  nature  and  pro¬ 
portions,  and  thereby  to  render  it  grand  and  venerable  to 
the  modern  scientific  mind,  than  this  history  of  its  origin 
and  formation.  As  the  scientific  man  studies  the  arti¬ 
cles  of  a  creed,  which  one  of  the  most  naturally  scientific 
minds  of  the  race,  aided  by  the  wisdom  of  predecessors 
and  contemporaries,  derived  from  the  written  revelation ; 
as  the  rigorous  and  dialectic  man  follows  Athanasius 
down  into  those  depths  of  the  Divine  nature,  which  yawn 
like  a  gulf  of  darkness  before  the  unaided  human  mind ; 
if  he  finds  nothing  to  love  and  adore,  he  finds  something 
to  respect ;  if  he  finds  no  food  for  his  affections,  he  finds 
some  matter  for  his  thoughts.  Here,  too,  is  science. 
Here,  too,  is  the  profound  intuition  expressed  in  the 
clear  but  inadequate  conception ;  the  most  thorough 
unions,  guarded  against  the  slightest  confusions ;  analy¬ 
sis  and  synthesis ;  opposite  conceptions  reconciled  in 
their  higher  and  original  unities ;  in  short,  all  the  forms 
of  science,  filled  up  in  this  instance  as  in  no  other,  with 


104 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


the  truth  of  eternal  necessary  fact  and  eternal  necessary 
being. 

And  this  same  kind  of  influence,  only  in  much  greater 
degree,  is  exerted  by  historical  studies  upon  the  mind  of 
the  theologian.  As  he  becomes  better  acquainted  with 
the  history  of  Christian  doctrines,  he  becomes  more  dis¬ 
posed  to  find  his  philosophy  of  human  nature  and  of  the 
Divine  nature  in  them,  rather  than  in  human  systems. 
As  he  studies  the  development  of  that  great  doctrine,  the 
doctrine  of  sin,  he  becomes  convinced,  if  he  was  not  be¬ 
fore,  that  the  powers,  and  capacities,  and  possible  des 
tiny,  of  the  human  soul,  have  received  their  most  pro¬ 
found  examination  within  the  sphere  of  Christian  theol¬ 
ogy.  As  he  studies  the  history  of  that  other  great  doc¬ 
trine,  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement,  he  sees  plainly  that 
the  ideas  of  law  and  justice  and  government,  of  guilt  and 
punishment  and  expiation ;  ideas  that  are  the  life  and 
lifeblood  of  the  Aristotelian  ethics,  the  best  and  purest 
ethical  system  which  the  human  reason  was  able  to  con¬ 
struct  ;  that  these  great  parent  ideas  show  truest,  fullest, 
largest,  and  clearest,  by  far,  within  the  consciousness  of 
the  Christian  mind. 

What  surer  method,  therefore,  of  making  his  mind 
grow  into  the  philosophy  of  Christianity  can  the  theolo¬ 
gian  employ,  than  the  historic  method  ?  In  what  better 
way  can  he  arm  himself  for  the  contest  with  ignorant  or 
with  cultivated  scepticism,  than  by  getting  possession, 
through  the  reproductive  study  of  dogmatic  history,  of 
the  exact  contents  of  Scripture  as  expanded  and  system¬ 
atized  by  the  consentaneous  and  connected  studies  of 
the  Fathers,  the  Reformers,  and  the  Divines,  the  Coun¬ 
cils,  the  Synods,  and  the  Assemblies,  of  the  Church  uni¬ 
versal  ? 

2.  Secondly,  notice  the  interest  awakened  by  histori- 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


105 


cal  studies  in  the  creeds  and  symbols  of  the  Christian 
church  as  marks  of  development  and  progress  in  theol- 

°gy- 

If  we  have  truly  enunciated  the  idea  of  history,  in  the 
first  part  of  this  discourse,  it  follows  that  all  genuine  de¬ 
velopment  is  a  historical  development,  and  all  true  pro¬ 
gress  is  a  historical  progress.  For  the  true  history  of 
anything  is  the  account  of  its  development  according  to 
its  true  idea  and  necessary  law.  The  history  of  a  na¬ 
tural  object,  like  a  crystal,  for  example,  is  the  account  of 
its  rigorously  geometric  collection  and  upbuilding  about 
a  nucleus.  Crystallization  is  a  necessary  process,  for  it  is 
a  petrified  geometry.  The  history  of  a  tree  is  the  ac¬ 
count  of  its  spontaneous  and  inevitable  evolution  out  of 
a  germ.  The  process  itself,  in  both  of  these  instances,  is 
predetermined  and  fixed.  The  account  of  the  process, 
therefore,  if  it  is  exactlv  conformed  to  the  actual  matter 
of  fact,  has  a  fixed  and  predetermined  character  also. 
For,  if  nature  herself  goes  forward  in  a  straight  and  unde¬ 
viating  line,  the  history  of  nature  must  follow  on  after, 
and  tread  in  her  very  and  exactest  footsteps.  Hence, 
true  legitimate  history,  of  any  kind,  is  neither  arbitrary  nor 
capricious.  It  corresponds  to  real  fact,  and  real  fact  is 
the  process  of  real  nature.  The  matter  and  method  of 
nature,  therefore,  dictate  the  matter  and  method  of  the 
historv  of  nature. 

And  the  same  holds  true,  when  we  pass  from  history 
in  the  sphere  of  nature,  to  history  in  the  realm  of  mind 
and  spirit.  The  matter  and  method  of  a  spiritual  idea 
dictate  the  matter  and  method  of  the  unfolding,  and,  con¬ 
sequently,  of  the  history,  of  that  idea.  In  the  case  now 
under  discussion,  the  real  nature  and  inward  structure  of 
Christianity  determine  what  does,  and  what  does  not 
belong  to  its  true  historical  development.  The  t'l  ue  his 


106  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE.  OF 

tory  of  Christianity,  therefore,  is  the  history  of  true  Chris 
tianity*  The  church  historian  is,  indeed,  obliged  to  take 
into  account  the  deviations  from  the  true  Scriptural  idea, 
because,  unlike  the  naturalist,  he  is  within  the  sphere  of 
freedom,  and  of  false  development,  and  because  redemp¬ 
tion  itself  is  a  mixed  process  of  dying  to  sin  and  living 
to  righteousness.  But  he  notices  the  deviations  not  for 
the  purpose,  it  should  be  carefully  observed,  of  letting 
them  -iake  up  part  of  the  true  and  normal  history  ol 
Scriptural  Christianity.  The  church  historian  is  obliged 
to  watch  the  rise  and  growth  of  heresies,  not  surely  be¬ 
cause  they  constitute  an  integrant  part  of  the  legitimate 
development  and  true  history  of  Scripture  truth.  The 
account  of  a  heresy  has  only  a  negative  historical  value. 
All  the  positive  and  genuine  history  of  Christian  doc¬ 
trine  is  to  be  made  up  out  of  that  correct  apprehension 
and  unfolding,  which  Scripture  has  received  from  the 
Catholic  as  antithetic  to  the  Heretical  mind.  Tempo¬ 
rary  departures  from  the  real  nature  of  Scripture  truth, 
and  deductions  from  it  that  are  illegitimate,  may  pos¬ 
sibly  have  contributed  to  a  return  to  a  deeper  and  clearer 
knowledge  of  revelation  on  the  part  of  some  few  minds, 
and  have  unquestionably  elicited  a  more  full  and  com¬ 
prehensive  statement  and  defence  of  Christianity  on  the 
part  of  others,  and  in  this  way  the  heresies  that  appear 
all  along  the  line  of  church  history,  throw  light  upon  the 

*  The  reader  will  notice  the  value  of  the  qualifying  adjective  here.  The 
term  history  is  used  in  two  senses ;  a  general  and  a  special.  In  the  former 
sense,  it  denotes  all  that  occurred,  right  or  wrong,  normal  or  abnormal.  In 
the  latter  sense,  in  which  alone  it  is  employed  above,  it  denotes  only  that 
which  ought  to  occur.  It  is  the  proper  function  of  the  philosophic  historian 
of  the  Christian  religion  and  church,  to  reduce  the  general  to  the  special 
history,  by  throwing  out  of  the  former  all  that  is  miscellaneous  and  hetero¬ 
geneous,  and  retaining  only  that  which  accords  with  the  supernatural  law 
and  principle  that  constitutes  the  basis  of  sacred,  as  distinguished  from  sec* 
lar,  history. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


107 


.me  course  of  doctrinal  development  and  help  to  bring 
out  the  true  history.  But  these  heretical  processes  them¬ 
selves,  cannot  be  regarded  as  integrant  and  necessary 
parts  of  the  great  historic  process,  any  more  than  the  dis¬ 
eases  of  the  human  body  can  be  regarded,  equally  with 
the  healthy  processes  of  growth,  as  the  normal  develop¬ 
ment  of  the  organism.  Nosology  is  not  a  chapter  in 
physiology. 

It  follows,  consequently,  that  the  true  and  proper  his¬ 
tory  of  Christianity  will  exhibit  a  true  and  proper  theo¬ 
logical  progress.  It  will  show  that  the  Scripture  germ 
implanted  by  God,  has  been  slowly  but  correctly  unfold¬ 
ing  in  the  doctrine  and  science  of  the  church.  We  can¬ 
not  grant  that  historical  theology  is  anti-scriptural  and 
radically  wrong ;  that  the  Bible  has  had  no  true  and  le¬ 
gitimate  apprehension  in  the  ages  and  generations  of 
believers.  There  has  been,  notwithstanding  all  the  at¬ 
tacks  of  infidelity  from  without,  and  controversies  from 
within,  a  substantial  agreement,  and  a  steady  advance, 
in  understanding  the  written  revelation.  This  is  very 
plainly  to  be  seen  in  the  history  of  doctrines,  and  from  this 
we  may  draw  the  most  forcible  proofs  and  illustrations. 
Let  any  one  compare  the  first  with  the  latest  Christian 
creed,  and  he  will  see  the  development  which  the  Scripture 
mustard-seed  has  undergone.  Let  any  one  place  the 
Apostles’  creed  beside  that  of  the  Westminster  Assem¬ 
bly,  and  see  what  a  vast  expansion  of  revealed  truth  has 
taken  place.  The  former  was  all  that  the  mind  of  the 
church  in  that  age  of  infancy  was  able  to  eliminate  and 
systematize  out  of  the  Scriptures  ;  and  this  simple  state¬ 
ment  was  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  imperfectly  developed 
scientific  wants  of  the  early  church.  The  latter  creed 
was  what  the  mind  of  the  church  was  able  to  construct  out 
of  the  elements  of  the  very  same  written  revelation,  afte* 


108  THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 

fifteen  hundred  years  of  study  and  reflection  upon  them. 
The  “  words,”  the  doctrinal  elements,  of  Scripture,  are 
“  spirit  and  life,”  and  hence,  like  all  spirit  and  all  life,  are 
capable  of  expansion.  Upon  them  the  historic  Christian 
mind,  age  after  age,  has  expended  its  best  reflection,  and 
now  the  result  is  an  enlarged  and  systematized  statement 
such  as  the  ^arly  church  could  not  have  made,  and  did 
not  need. 

Compare,  again,  the  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  in  the  Apostles’  creed  with  that  in  the  Nicene 
creed.  The  erroneous  and  defective  statements  of  Arius 
compelled  the  orthodox  mind  to  a  more  profound  reflec¬ 
tion  upon  the  matter  of  Scripture,  and  the  result  was  a 
creed  in  which  the  implication  and  potentiality  of  revela¬ 
tion  was  so  far  explicated  and  evolved  as  to  present  a 
distinct  and  unequivocal  denial  of  the  doctrine  of  a 
created  Son  of  God.  But,  besides  this  negative  value, 
this  systematic  construction  of  the  Scripture  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  has  a  great  positive  worth.  It  opens  before 
the  human  mind  the  great  abyss  of  the  Divine  nature ; 
and,  though  it  cannot  impart  to  the  finite  intelligence 
that  absolutely  full  and  perfect  knowledge  of  the  God¬ 
head  which  only  God  himself  can  have,  it  yet  furnishes 
a  form  of  apprehension  which  accords  with  the  real 
nature  of  God,  and  will,  therefore,  preserve  the  mind  that 
accepts  it  from  both  the  Dualistic  and  the  Pantheistic 
ideas  of  the  Supreme  Being.  Abstruse  and  dialectic  as 
that  creed  has  appeared  to  some  minds  and  some  ages 
in  the  Christian  church ;  little  connection  as  it  has 
seemed  to  them  to  have  with  so  practical  a  matter  as 
vital  religion  ;  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  those 
councils  at  Nice  and  Constantinople,  did  a  work  in  the 
years  325  and  381,  of  which  the  church  universal  will 
feel  the  salutary  effects  to  the  end  of  time,  both  in  pracT 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


109 


cal  and  scientific  respects.  For,  if  all  right  religions 
feeling  towards  Jesus  Christ  is  grounded  in  the  unassail¬ 
able  conviction  that  he  is  truly  and  verily  God;  “  begot¬ 
ten,  not  made,  being  of  one  substance  with  the  Father;” 
then  this  creed  laid  down  the  systematic  basis  of  all  the 
true  worship  and  acceptable  adoration  which  the  church 
universal  have  paid  to  the  Redeemer  of  the  world.*  And 
if  a  correct  metaphysical  conception  of  the  Divine  Being 
is  necessary  in  order  to  all  right  philosophizing  upon 
God  and  the  universe,  then  this  Christian  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  is  the  only  statement  that  is  adequate  to  the 
wants  of  science,  and  the  only  one  that  can  keep  the 
philosophic  mind  from  the  Pantheistic  and  Dualistic 
deviation  to  which,  when  left  to  itself,  it  is  so  liable. 

The  importance  of  historical  studies  and  the  historic 
spirit  in  an  age  of  the  world  that  more  than  any  other 
suffers  from  false  notions  regarding  the  nature  of  pro- 

*  By  this  is  not  meant  that  there  can  be  no  true  worship  until  a  creed 
has  been  systematically  formed  and  laid  down,  but  that  all  true  worship  is 
grounded  in  a  practical  belief  which,  when  examined,  is  found  to  harmon¬ 
ize  exactly  with  the  speculative  results  reached  by  the  Christian  Scientific 
mind.  So  far  as  the  great  body  of  believers  is  concerned,  their  case  is  like 
that  of  Hilary  of  Poictiers,  who  has  left  one  of  the  best  of  the  patristic 
treatises  upon  the  Trinity,  but  who,  in  his  retired  bishopric  in  Gaul,  did 
not  hear  of  the  Nicene  creed  until  many  years  after  its  origin.  He  found 
in  it  that  very  same  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  essence  in  the  Father  and  the 
Son,  which  he  had,  before  this,  ascertained  to  be  the  true  doctrine,  from  tho 
study  of  the  New  Testament,  and  had  received  into  his  Christian  experi¬ 
ence,  without  being  aware  that  the  faith  which  he  bore  in  his  heart,  had 
been  laid  down  in  the  form  of  a  creed/’  —  Torrey’s  Neander,  ii.  396. 

Consonant  with  this,  Hagenbach,  after  speaking  of  the  highly  scientific 
character  of  the  Symbolum  Quicumque,  its  endeavor,  namely,  to  express  the 
ineffable  by  its  series  of  affirmations  and  guarding  negations,  adds,  that 
“  such  formulae  nevertheless  have  their  edifying  no  less  than  their  scientific 
side,  inasmuch  as  they  testify  to  the  struggle  of  the  Christian  mind  after  a 
satisfactory  expression  of  that  which  has  its  full  truth  only  in  the  depths 
of  the  believing  heart  and  character.” —  Dogmengesehichte,  third  edition, 
p.  249,  note. 


110 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


gress  and  development,  cannot  be  exaggerated.  But  he 
who  is  able  to  see  in  the  creeds  and  symbols  of  the 
Christian  church  so  many  steps  of  real  progress ;  he  who 
knows  that  outside  of  that  line  of  symbolic  literature 
there  is  nothing  but  deviation  from  the  real  matter  of 
Scripture,  will  not  be  likely  to  be  carried  away  with  the 
notion  of  a  sudden  and  great  improvement  upon  all  that 
has  hitherto  been  accomplished  in  the  department  of 
theology.  He  will  know  that,  as  all  the  past  develop¬ 
ment  has  been  historic ;  restatement  shooting  out  of 
prestatement ;  the  fuller  creed  bursting  out  of  the  nar¬ 
rower  ;  the  expanded  treatise  swelling  forth  growth-like 
from  the  more  slender ;  so  all  the  present  and  future 
development  in  theology  must  be  historic  also.  He  will 
see,  especially,  that  elements  that  have  already  been 
examined  and  rejected  by  the  Christian  mind,  as  unscrip- 
tural  and  foreign,  can  never  again  be  rightfully  intro¬ 
duced  into  creeds  and  symbols  ;  that  history  cannot  undo 
history ;  that  the  progress  of  the  present  and  the  future 
must  be  homogeneous  and  kindred  with  the  progress  of 
the  past. 

III.  In  the  third  place,  a  historic  spirit  in  the  theolo¬ 
gian  protects  him  from  false  notions  respecting  the 
nature  of  the  visible  church,  and  from  a  false  church 
feeling. 

We  can  devote  but  a  moment  to  this  branch  of  the 
discussion,  unusually  important  just  at  this  time. 

We  have  seen  that  the  most  important  part  of  the  his¬ 
tory  of  the  church  is  its  inward  history.  We  have  found 
that  the  external  history  of  Christianity  derives  all  its 
interest  for  a  thoughtful  mind  from  its  connection  with 
that  dispensation  of  truth  and  of  spirit  which  lies  beneath 
it  as  its  animating  soul.  The  whole  influence,  conse¬ 
quently,  of  genuine  and  comprehensive  historical  stud)' 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


Ill 


Is  to  magnify  the  substance  and  subordinate  the  form 
to  exalt  truth,  doctrine,  and  life,  over  rites,  ceremoniesj 
and  polities. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  the  study  of  ecclesiastical 
history,  in  some  minds,  and  in  some  branches  of  the 
church,  has  strengthened  a  strong  formalizing  tendency, 
and  promoted  ecclesiasticism.  The  Papacy  has  from 
time  immemorial  appealed  to  tradition ;  and  those  por¬ 
tions  of  the  Protestant  church  which  have  been  least  suc¬ 
cessful  in  freeing  themselves  from  the  materialism  of  the 
Papacy,  have  said  much  about  the  past  history  of  the 
church.  Hence,  in  some  quarters  in  the  Protestant 
church,  there  are,  and  always  have  been,  apprehensions 
lest  history  should  interfere  with  the  great  right  of  pri¬ 
vate  judgment,  and  put  a  stop  to  all  legitimate  progress. 

But  it  only  needs  a  comprehensive  idea  of  the  nature 
of  history  to  allay  these  apprehensions.  It  only  needs  to 
be  remembered  that  the  history  of  Christianity  is  some¬ 
thing  more  than  the  history  of  the  Nicene  period  or  of 
the  Scholastic  age.  It  only  needs  to  be  recollected  that 
the  history  of  Christianity  denotes  a  course  of  develop¬ 
ment  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  down  to  the 
present  moment ;  that  it  includes  the  whole  of  that 
Divine  economy  which  began  with  the  first  promise,  and 
which  manifested  itself  first  in  the  Patriarchal,  next  in 
the  Jewish,  and  finally  in  the  Christian,  church.*  The 


*  Probably  the  most  serious  defect  in'  the  construction  of  the  history  of 
Christianity  by  the  school  of  Schleiermacher,  springs  from  regarding  the 
incarnation  as  the  beginning  of  church  history.  Even  if  this  is  not  always 
formally  said,  as  it  sometimes  is.  the  notion  itself  moulds  and  forms  the 
whole  account.  The  golden  position  of  Augustine,  Novum  Testamentum  in 
Vetere  latet,  Vetus  in  Novo  patet ,  is  forgotten,  and  the  Jewish  religion,  as  it 
came  from  God,  is  confounded  with  that  corruption  of  it  which  we  find  in 
t^e  days  of  our  Saviour,  but  against  which  the  evangelical  prophet  Isaiah 
•"weighs  as  earnestly  as  the  evangelical  apostle  Paul.  l>  He  is  not  a  Jew 


112 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


influence  of  the  study  of  this  whole  great  process,  espe- 
cially  if  the  eye  is  kept  fastened  upon  the  spiritual  sub¬ 
stance  of  it,  is  anything  but  formalizing  and  sectarian. — 
If,  therefore,  a  papistic  and  anti-catholic  temper  has 
ever  shown  itself  in  connection  with  the  study  of  ecclesi¬ 
astical  history,  it  was  because  the  inward  history  was 
neglected,  and  even  the  external  history  was  studied  in 
sections  only.  He  who  selects  a  particular  period  merely, 
and  neglects  all  that  has  preceded  and  all  that  has  fol¬ 
lowed,  will  be  liable  to  a  sectarian  view  of  the  nature 
and  history  of  the  church  of  God.  He  who  reproduces 
within  his  mind  the  views  and  feelings  of  a  single  age 
merely,  will  be  individual  and  bigoted  in  his  temper. — 
He  who  confines  his  studies,  for  example,  as  so  many 

which  is  one  outAvardly,  neither  is  that  circumcision  which  is  outward  in 
the  flesh.”  Judaism  is  not  Phariseeism.  There  is,  therefore,  no  inward 
and  essential  difference  between  true  Judaism  and  true  Christianity.  The 
former  looked  forward  and  the  latter  looks  backward  to  the  same  central 
Person  and  the  same  central  Cross.  The  manifested  Jehovah  of  the  Old 
Testament  was  the  incarnate  Word  of  the  New.  “  The  religion,”  says 
Edwards,  “  that  the  church  of  God  has  professed  from  the  first  founding  of 
the  church  after  the  fall  to  this  time,  has  always  been  the  same.  Though 
the  dispensations  have  been  altered,  yet  the  religion  which  the  church  ha3 
professed,  has  always,  as  to  its  essentials,  been  the  same.  The  church  of 
God,  from  the  beginning,  has  been  one  society.  The  Christian  church 
which  has  been  since  Christ’s  ascension,  is  manifestly  the  same  society 
continued,  with  the  church  that  was  before  Christ  came.  The  Christian 
church  is  grafted  on  their  root ;  they  are  built  upon  the  same  foundation.  — 
The  revelation  upon  which  both  have  depended,  is  essentially  the  same; 
for,  as  the  Christian  church  is  built  on  the  Holy  Scriptures,  so  was  the 
Jewish  church,  though  now  the  Scriptures  be  enlarged  by  the  addition  of 
the  New  Testament ;  but  still  it  is  essentially  the  same  revelation  with  that 
which  was  given  in  the  Old  Testament,  only  the  subjects  of  Divine  revela¬ 
tion  are  now  more  clearly  recorded  in  the  New  Testament  than  they  were 
in  the  Old.  But  the  sum  and  substance  of  both  the  Old  Testament  and 
the  New,  is  Christ  and  His  redemption.  The  church  of  God  has  always 
been  on  the  foundation  of  Divine  revelation,  and  always  on  those  revela¬ 
tions  that  were  essentially  the  same,  and  which  were  summarily  compre¬ 
hended  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.”  —  Edwards’s  Work  of  Redemption,  i.  47& 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


113 


have  done,  and  are  doing,  to  that  period  from  Constan¬ 
tine  to  Hildebrand,  which  witnessed  the  rise  and  forma¬ 
tion  of  the  Papacy ;  and,  especially,  he,  who  in  this 
period  studies  merely  the  archaeology  and  the  polity, 
without  the  doctrines,  the  morality,  and  the  life ;  he, 
who  confines  himself  to  those  tracts  of  Augustine  which 
emphasize  the  idea  of  the  church  in  opposition  to  ancient 
radicals  and  disorganizes,  but  studiously  avoids  those 
other  and  greater  and  more  elaborate  treatises  of  this 
earnest  spiritualist,  which  thunder  the  idea  of  the  truth, 
in  opposition  to  all  heretics  and  all  formalists ;  he,  in 
short,  who  goes  to  the  study  of  ecclesiastical  history  with 
a  predetermined  purpose,  and  carries  into  it  an  antece¬ 
dent  interpreting  idea,  derived  from  his  denomination, 
and  not  from  Scripture,  will  undoubtedly  become  more 
and  more  Romish  and  less  and  less  historic. 

Such  a  disposition  as  this,  is  directly  crossed  and  mor¬ 
tified  by  a  comprehensive  and  philosophic  conception  of 
history.  Especially  will  the  history  of  doctrines  destroy 
the  belief  in  the  infallibility,  or  paramount  authority,  of 
any  particular  portion  of  the  church  universal.  The  eye 
is  now  turned  away  from  those  external  and  imposing 
features  of  the  history  which  have  such  a  natural  effect 
to  carnalize  the  mind,  to  those  simpler  truths  and  interior 
living  principles,  which  have  a  natural  effect  to  spiritual¬ 
ize  it.  An  interest  in  the  theology  of  the  church  is  very 
different  from  an  interest  in  the  polity  of  the  church.  It 
is  a  fact  that  as  the  one  rises,  the  other  declines ;  and 
there  would  be  no  surer  method  of  destroying  the  formal¬ 
ism  that  exists  in  some  portions  of  the  church,  than  to 
compel  their  clergy  to  the  continuous  and  close  study  of 
the  entire  history  of  Christian  doctrines. 

IV.  In  the  fourth  place,  a  historic  spirit  in  theologians 


114 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


promotes  a  profound  and  genial  agreement  on  essential 
points,  and  a  genial  disagreement  on  non-essentials. 

It  is  plain  that  the  study  of  chinch  history  tends  to 
establish  and  to  magnify  the  distinction  between  real 
orthodoxy  and  real  heterodoxy.  History  is  discriminating 
and  cannot  be  made  to  mingle  the  immiscible.  In 
regard,  therefore,  to  the  great  main  currents  of  truth  and 
of  error,  the  historic  mind  is  clear  in  its  insight  and 
decided  in  its  opinions.  It  knows  that  the  Christian 
religion  has  been  both  truly  and  falsely  apprehended  by 
the  human  mind,  and  that,  consequently,  two  lines  of 
belief  can  be  traced  down  the  ages  and  generations  ;  that 
in  only  one  of  these  two,  is  Scriptural  Christianity  to  be 
found. 

But  its  wide  and  catholic  survey,  also  enables  the  his¬ 
toric  mind  to  see  as  the  unhistoric  mind  cannot,  that  the 
line  of  orthodoxy  is  not  a  mathematical  line.  It  has 
some  breadth.  It  is  a  path,  upon  which  the  church  can 
travel,  and  not  merely  a  direction  in  which  it  can  look. 
It  is  a  high  and  royal  road,  where  Christian  men  may  go 
abreast ;  may  pass  each  other,  and  carry  on  the  practical 
business  of  a  Christian  life ;  and  not  a  mere  hair-line 
down  which  nought  can  go  but  the  one-eyed  sighting  of 
either  speculative  or  provincial  bigotry. 

Hence  historical  studies  banish  both  provincialism  and 
bigotry  from  a  theological  system,  and  imbue  it  with 
that  practical  and  catholic  spirit  which  renders  it  interest¬ 
ing  and  influential  through  the  whole  church  and  world. 
A  system  of  theology  may  be  true  and  yet  not  contain 
the  whole  truth.  It  may  have  seized  upon  some  funda¬ 
mental  positions,  or  cardinal  doctrines,  with  a  too  violent 
energy,  and  have  given  them  an  exorbitant  expansion,  to 
the  neglect  of  other  equally  fundamental  truths.  In  this 
case,  historical  knowledge  is  one  of  the  best  correctives 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


115 


A  wider  knowledge  of  the  course  of  theological  specula¬ 
tion  ;  a  more  profound  acquaintance  with  the  origin  and 
formation  of  the  leading  systems  of  the  church  universal; 
tends  to  produce  that  equilibrium  of  the  parts  and  that 
comprehensiveness  of  the  whole,  which  are  so  apt  to  be 
lacking  in  a  provincial  creed  or  system. 

A  similar  liberalizing  influence  is  exerted  by  the  study 
of  church  history  upon  the  theologian  himself.  He  sees 
that  men  on  the  same  side  of  the  line  which  divides  real 
orthodoxy  from  real  heterodoxy,  have  differed  from  each 
other,  and  sometimes  upon  very  important,  though  never 
upon  vital,  points.  The  history  of  Christian  doctrine 
compels  him  to  acknowledge  that  there  is  a  theological 
space,  within  which  it  is  safe  for  the  theological  scientific 
mind  to  expatiate  and  career ;  that  this  is  a  liberty  con¬ 
ceded  to  the  theologian  by  the  unsystematized  form  in 
which  the  written  revelation  has  been  given  to  man, 
and  a  liberty,  too,  which,  when  it  is  not  abused,  greatly 
promotes  that  clearer  and  fuller  understanding  of  the 
Scriptures,  which  we  have  seen  the  historic  Christian 
mind  is  continually  striving  after. 

But  this  scientific  liberality  among  theologians  leads 
directly  to  a  more  profound  and  genial  agreement  among 
them  upon  all  practical  and  essential  points.  The  liber¬ 
ality  of  the  historic  mind  is  very  far  removed  from  that 
mere  indifferentism  which  sometimes  usurps  this  name 
There  is  a  truth  for  which  the  disagreeing,  and  perhaps 
(owing  to  imperfectly  sanctified  hearts)  the  bitterly  disa¬ 
greeing,  theologians  would  both  be  tied  to  one  stake  and 
be  burnt  with  one  fire.  There  is  a  vital  and  necessary 
doctrine  for  which,  if  it  were  assailed  by  a  third  party,  a 
bitter  unevangelic  enemy,  both  of  the  contending  ortho¬ 
dox  divines  would  fight  under  one  and  the  same  shield. 
That  truth  which  history  shows  has  been  the  life  of  the 


116 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


church  and  without  which  it  must  die  ;  that  historic 
truth,  which  is  the  heritage  and  the  joy  of  the  whole 
family  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  is  dear  to  both  hearts 
alike. 

But  what  tends  to  make  differing  theologians  agree, 
profoundly  and  thoroughly,  upon  essential  points,  also 
tends  to  make  them  differ  generously  and  genially  upon 
non-essentials.  Those  who  know  that,  after  all,  they  are 
one,  in  fundamental  character,  and  in  fundamental  belief; 
that,  after  all  their  disputing,  they  have  but  one  Lord,  one 
faith  and  one  baptism  ;  find  it  more  difficult  to  maintain 
a  bitter  tone  and  to  employ  an  exasperated  accent  toward 
each  other.  The  common  Christian  consciousness  wells 
up  from  the  lower  depths  of  the  soul,  and,  as  in  those  deep 
inland  lakes  which  are  fed  from  subterranean  fountains, 
the  sweet  waters  neutralize  and  change  those  bitter  or 
brackish  surface  currents  that  have  in  them  the  taint  of 
the  shores  ;  perhaps  the  washings  of  civilization. 

While,  therefore,  a  wide  acquaintance  with  the  varie¬ 
ties  of  statement  which  appear  in  scientific  orthodoxy, 
does  not  in  the  least  render  the  mind  indifferent  to  that 
essential  truth  which  every  man  must  believe  or  be  lost 
eternally,  it  at  the  same  time  induces  a  generous  and 
genial  temper  among  differing  theologians.  The  contro¬ 
versies  of  the  Christian  church  have  unquestionably  been 
a  benefit  to  systematic  theology,  and  that  mind  must 
have  a  very  meagre  idea  of  the  comprehensiveness  and 
pregnancy  of  Divine  revelation,  who  supposes  that  the 
Christian  mind  could  have  derived  out  of  it  that  great 
system  of  doctrinal  knowledge  which  is  to  outlive  all  the 
constructions  of  the  philosophic  mind,  without  any  sharp 
controversy,  or  keen  examination  among  theologians. 
That  structure  did  not  and  could  not  rise  like  Thebes,  at 
the  mellifluous  sound  of  Amphion’s  lute ;  it  did  not  rear 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


117 


itself  up  like  the  Jewish  temple  without  sound  of  ham¬ 
mer,  or  axe,  or  any  tool  of  iron.  Slowly,  and  with  diffi¬ 
culty,  was  it  upreared,  by  hard  toil,  amid  opposition  from 
foes  without  and  foes  within,  and  through  much  earnest 
mental  conflict.  And  so  will  it  continue  to  be  reared  and 
beautified  in  the  ages  that  are  to  come.  We  cannot  alter 
this  course  of  things  so  long  as  the  truth  is  infinite,  and 
the  mind  is  finite  and  sees  through  a  glass  darkly. 

What  is  needed,  therefore,  is  a  sweet  and  generous 
temper  in  all  parties  as  the  work  goes  on.  The  theolo¬ 
gian  needs  that  great  ability :  the  ability  to  differ  genially. 
It  has  been  the  misery  and  the  disgrace  of  the  church,  that 
too  many  theologians  who  have  held  the  truth,  and  have 
held  it,  too,  in  its  best  forms,  have  held  it,  like  the  hea¬ 
then,  in  unrighteousness  ;  have  held  it  in  narrowness  and 
bigotry.  They  have  differed  in  a  hard,  dry,  ungenial 
way.  They  have  forgotten  that  the  rich  man  can  afford 
to  be  liberal ;  that  the  strong  man  need  not  be  constantly 
anxious  ;  that  a  scientific  and  rigorous  orthodoxy  should 
ever  look  out  of  a  beaming,  and  not  a  sullen,  eye. 

Let  us  be  thankful  that  some  ages  in  the  history  of  the 
church  furnish  examples  that  cheer  and  instruct.  Look 
back  at  that  most  interesting  period,  the  period  of  the 
Reformation,  and  contemplate  the  profound  agreement 
upon  essentials  and  the  genial  disagreement  upon  non- 
essentials,  that  prevailed  among  the  leaders  then.  Mar¬ 
tin  Luther  and  John  Calvin  were  two  theologians  who 
differed  as  greatly  in  mental  structure,  and  in  their  spon¬ 
taneous  mode  of  contemplating  and  constructing  doc¬ 
trines,  as  is  possible  for  two  minds  upon  the  same  side 
of  the  great  controversy  between  orthodoxy  and  heresy. 
No  man  will  say  that  the  differences  between  Lutheran- 
ism  and  Calvinism  are  minor  or  unimportant.  Probably 
any  one  would  say  that,  if  those  two  men  were  able  to 


116 


THE  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF 


feel  the  common  Christian  fellowship ;  to  enjoy  the  com 
munion  of  saints  ;  and  to  realize  with  tenderness  their 
common  relationship  to  the  Head  of  the  church  ;  there  is 
no  reason  why  all  men  who  are  properly  within  the  pale 
of  orthodoxy  should  not  do  the  same. 

Turn  now  to  the  letters  of  both  of  these  men  ;  written 
in  the  midst  of  that  controversy  which  was  going  on  be¬ 
tween  the  two  portions  of  the  Reformed,  and  which  re¬ 
sulted,  not,  however,  through  the  desire  or  the  influence 
of  these  two  great  men,  but  through  the  bitterness  of 
their  adherents,  in  their  division  into  two  distinct  church¬ 
es  ;  and  witness  the  common  genial  feeling  that  pre¬ 
vailed.  Hear  Luther  in  his  letter  to  Bucer  sending  his 
cordial  greeting  to  Calvin,  whose  books  he  has  read  with 
singular  pleasure  :  cum  singulari  voluptate.  Hear  Calvin 
declaring  his  willing  and  glad  readiness  to  subscribe  to 
the  Augsburg  Confession,  interpreting  it  upon  the  sacra¬ 
mental  question  as  the  Lutherans  themselves  author¬ 
ized  him  to  do.*  Above  all,  turn  to  that  burst,  from  Cal¬ 
vin,  of  affectionate  feeling  towards  Melanchthon,  which 
gives  itself  vent  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his  stern  contro¬ 
versial  tracts,  like  the  music  of  flutes  silencing  for  a  mo¬ 
ment  the  clang  of  war-cymbals  and  the  blare  of  the  trum¬ 
pet  :  “  O  Philip  Melanchthon,  to  thee  I  address  myself, 
to  thee  who  art  now  living  in  the  presence  of  God  with 


*  Henry’s  Life  of  Calvin,  II.  pp.  96,  99.  It  is  interesting  and  instructive 
to  witness  the  liberal  feeling  of  the  scientific  and  rigorously  orthodox  Atha¬ 
nasius  towards  the  Semiarians  themselves,  whose  statement  of  the  doc¬ 
trine  of  the  Trinity  he  regarded  to  be  inadequate.  See  the  quotation  from 
Athanasius  de  Synodis ,  §  41,  in  Gieseler,  Chap.  II.  §  83,  and  the  reference  to 
Hilarius  de  Synodis,  §  76.  Says  Augustine:  “they  who  do  not  pertina¬ 
ciously  defend  their  opinion,  false  and  perverse  though  it  be,  especially 
when  it  does  not  spring  from  the  audacity  of  their  own  presumption,  while 
they  seek  the  truth  with  cautious  solicitude,  and  are  prepared  to  correct 
themselves  when  they  have  found  it,  are  by  no  means  to  be  ranked  among 
heretics.” — Epistle  43,  Newman’s  Library  Version. 


THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 


119 


Jesus  Christ,  and  there  awaitest  us,  till  death  shall  unite 
us  in  the  enjoyment  of  Divine  peace.  A  hundred  times 
hast  thou  said  to  me,  when  weary  with  so  much  labor 
and  oppressed  with  so  many  burdens,  thou  laidst  thy 
head  upon  my  breast,  ‘  God  grant,  God  grant,  that  I 
may  now  die! 

The  theology  of  Richard  Baxter  differs  from  the  theol¬ 
ogy  of  John  Owen  by  some  important  modifications,  and 
each  of  these  two  types  of  Calvinism  will  probably  per¬ 
petuate  itself  in  the  church  to  the  end  of  time ;  but  the 
confidence  which  both  of  these  great  men  cherished  to¬ 
wards  each  other,  should  go  along  down  with  these  sys¬ 
tems  through  the  ages  and  generations  of  time. 

But  what  surer  method  can  be  employed  to  produce 
and  perpetuate  this  catholic  and  liberal  feeling  among 
the  various  types  and  schools  of  orthodox  theology,  than 
to  impart  to  all  of  them  the  broad  views  of  history  ? 
And  what  surer  method  than  this  can  be  taken  to  dimin¬ 
ish  the  number  and  bring  about  more  unity  of  opinion 
in  the  department  of  systematic  theology?  For  it  is  one 
great  effect  of  history  to  coalesce  and  harmonize.  It  intro¬ 
duces  mutual  modifications,  by  showing  opponents  that 
their  predecessors  were  nearer  together  than  they  them¬ 
selves  are,  by  tracing  the  now  widely  separated  opinions 
back  to  that  point  of  departure  where  they  were  once 
very  near  together ;  and,  above  all,  by  causing  all  parties 
to  remember,  what  all  are  so  liable  to  forget  in  the  heat 
of  controversy,  that  all  forms  of  orthodoxy  took  their  first 
origin  in  the  Scriptures,  and  that,  therefore,  all  theologi¬ 
cal  controversy  should  be  carried  on  with  a  constant 
reference  to  this  one  infallible  standard,  which  can  teach 
but  one  infallible  system. 


*  Henry’s  Life  of  Calvin,  I.  239. 


120  NATURE,  AND  INFLUENCE,  OF  THE  HISTORIC  SPIRIT. 

I  have  thus  considered  the  nature  of  the  historic  spirit 
and  its  influence  both  upon  the  secular  and  theological 
mind,  in  order  to  indicate  my  own  deep  sense  of  the  im¬ 
portance  of  the  department  in  which  I  have  been  called 
to  give  instruction  by  the  guardians  of  this  Institution. 
The  first  instinctive  feelings  would  have  shrunk  from  the 
weight  of  the  great  burden  imposed,  and  the  extent  of 
the  very  great  field  opened  ;  though  in  an  institution 
where  the  pleasant  years  of  professional  study  were  all 
spent ;  though  in  an  ancient  institution,  made  illustrious 
and  influential,  through  the  land  and  the  world,  by  the 
labors  of  the  venerated  dead  and  the  honored  living. 
But  it  does  not  become  the  individual  to  yield  to  his 
individuality.  The  stream  of  Divine  Providence,  so  sig¬ 
nally  conspicuous  in  the  life  of  the  church,  and  of  its 
members,  is  the  stream  upon  which  the  diffident  as  well  as 
tke  confident  must  alike  cast  ’themselves.  And  he  who 
enters  upon  a  new  course  of  labor  for  the  church  of 
God,  with  just  views  of  the  greatness  and  glory  of  the 
kingdom  and  of  the  comparative  unimportance  of  any 
individual  member,  will  be  most  likely  to  perform  a  work 
that  will  best  harmonize  with  the  development  and  pro¬ 
gress  of  the  great  whole. 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED,  AND 
APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


§  1.  The  abstract  idea  of  Evolution  and  of  LIistory. 


In  order  to  the  successful  investigation  of  any  subject, 
it  is  necessary,  first  of  all,  to  form  a  comprehensive  and 
clear  conception  of  its  essential  nature.  Without  such  an 
antecedent  general  apprehension,  the  mind  is  at  a  loss 
where  to  begin,  and  which  way  to  proceed.  The  true 
idea  of  any  object,  is  a  species  of  preparatory  knowledge 
which  throws  light  over  the  whole  field  of  inquiry,  and 
introduces  an  orderly  method  into  the  whole  course  of 
examination.  It  is  the  clue  which  leads  through  the  laby¬ 
rinth  ;  the  key  to  the  problem  to  be  solved. 

It  may  appear  strange  and  irrational,  at  first  glance,  to 
require  a  knowledge  of  the  intrinsic  nature  of  that  which 
is  to  be  examined,  in  order  that  it  may  be  examined,  and 
before  the  examination.  At  first  sight,  it  may  seem  as  if 
this  perception  of  the  true  idea  of  a  thing,  should  be  the 
result,  and  not  the  antecedent,  of  inquiry,  and  that  nothing 
of  an  a  priori  nature  should  be  permitted  to  enter  into 
the  investigations  of  the  human  mind  in  any  department 
of  knowledge.  To  require  in  the  outset  a  comprehensive 
idea  of  History,  for  example,  and  then  to  use  this  as  an 
instrument  of  investigation,  seems  to  invert  the  true  order 


6 


122 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


of  tilings,  and  to  convert  ignorance  into  knowledge  by 
some  shorter  method  than  that  of  studv  and  reflection. 

•J 

Put  what  is  the  matter  of  fact  ?  Does  the  scientific  mind 
start  off  upon  its  inquiries  in  every  direction,  without  any 
preconceived  ideas  as  to  where  it  is  going,  and  what  it 
expects  to  find  ?  Is  the  human  understanding  such  a  tab¬ 
ula  rasa ,  that  it  contributes  nothing  of  its  own  towards 
the  discovery  of  truth,  but,  like  the  mirror,  servilely 
reflects  all  that  is  brought  before  it,  without  regard  to 
deflections  and  distortions?  We  have  only  to  watch  the 
movements  of  our  minds  to  find  that  we  carry  with  us 
into  every  field  of  investigation  an  antecedent  idea,  which 
gives  more  or  less  direction  to  our  studies,  and  goes  far  to 
determine  the  result  to  which  we  come.  We  are  not  now 
concerned  with  the  reasonableness  or  unreasonableness  of 
tliis  fact ;  we  are  now  only  alluding  to  it  as  an  actual  mat¬ 
ter  of  fact  which  appears  in  the  history  of  every  studious 
and  reflecting  mind.  Even  if  we  deem  it  to  be  irrational 
and  groundless,  and  for  this  reason  endeavor  to  do  away 
with  it  in  our  studies,  we  find  it  to  be  impossible.  If  we 
begin  the  study  of  Philosophy,  it  is  with  a  general  con¬ 
ception  of  its  nature ;  and  one  that  is  continually  reap¬ 
pearing  in  our  philosophizing.  If  we  commence  the 
examination  of  Christianity  itself,  we  find  that  we  already 
have  an  idea  of  its  distinctive  character  as  a  religion, 
wdiich  exerts  a  very  great  influence  upon  our  inquiry  into' 
its  constituent  elements,  and  particularly  upon  our  con¬ 
struction  of  its  doctrines.  This  idea  contains  such  pre¬ 
judgments  as,  that  Christianity  is  a  supernatural  religion ; 
that  its  author  is  divine  j  that  its  truths  are  mysterious , 
i.  e.,  are  infinite,  and  therefore  cannot  be  exhausted  by  the 
finite  intelligence.  These  judgments  are  analytic  and  a 
priori  /  they  flow  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  For  if 
Christianity  is  a  religion  differing  in  kind  from  all  natural 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


123 


religions,  then  the  above  elements  are  necessarily  involved 
in  the  conception  and  theory  of  it.  The  demand  there¬ 
fore  so  constantly  made  by  the  rationalist  of  every  cen¬ 
tury,  that  the  mind  be  entirely  vacant  of  a  priori  ideas 
and  initiating  preconceptions;  in  his  phraseology,  free 
from  “prejudices”;  in  order  that  it  may  make  a  truly 
scientific  examination,  is  a  demand  that  cannot  be  com¬ 
plied  with,  even  if  there  were  a  disposition  to  do  so  on 
the  part  of  the  inquirer,  and  is  not  complied  with  even  on 
the  part  of  him  who  makes  it.  With  the  origin  of  such 
guiding  ideas  we  have  no  concern  at  this  time.  It  is  suf¬ 
ficient  for  our  purpose  to  indicate  their  actual  existence 
in  the  human  mind,  and  their  actual  influence  and  opera¬ 
tion  in  all  departments  of  its  investigation.  With  the  cor¬ 
rectness  of  these  ideas,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  a  much 
closer  concern  ;  for  if  they  exist  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to 
be  rid  of  them,  and  make  themselves  visible  in  all  the 
investigations  of  the  student,  and  in  all  the  products  of 
his  investigation,  it  is  certainly  of  the  first  importance  that 
they  be  true  ideas  ;  that  is,  exact  correspondents  to  the 
real  nature  of  things. 

What  then  is  the  true  idea  of  History  with  which  we 
should  commence  our  studies  and  reflections  in  this  depart¬ 
ment  of  knowledge,  and  how  may  we  know  that  it  is  the 
true  idea,  and  therefore  entitled  to  guide  our  inquiries, 
and  shape  our  constructions  ? 

It  is  verv  generally  conceded  that  in  its  abstract  and 
essential  nature  all  History,  be  it  that  of  matter  or  of 
mind,  is  Evolution,  and  with  this  we  agree.  The  idea  of 
an  unfolding  is  identical  with  that  of  a  history.  In  think¬ 
ing  of  the  one,  we  unavoidably  think  of  the  other,  and 
this  evinces  an  inward  coincidence  between  the  two  con¬ 
ceptions.  Unceasing  motion,  from  a  given  jioint,  through 
several  stadia,  to  a  final  terminus,  is  a  characteristic 


124 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

belonging  inseparably  to  any  historic  process.  It  is  seen^ 
unquestionably,  in  natural  History :  in  the  progressive 
expansion  of  the  vegetable  seed  first  into  the  blade,  then 
into  the  ear,  and  then  into  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.  The 
account  of  this  process  of  evolution  is  the  history  of  the 
seed.  And  this  same  characteristic  of  an  evolution  is 
equally  apparent  in  intellectual  and  moral  History.  In 
bringing  before  our  minds  the  passage  of  an  intellec¬ 
tual  or  a  moral  idea  from  one  decree  of  energy  and  effi- 
ciency  to  another,  in  the  history  of  a  nation  or  of  mankind, 
we  unavoidably  construe  it  as  a  continuous  and  connected 
career.  The  same  fact  of  organic  sequence  is  found 
within  the  sphere  of  mind  and  of  freedom  that  appears  in 
the  kingdom  of  matter  and  of  necessity,  so  that  terms  ap¬ 
plied  to  the  connected  events  and  processes  of  the  natural 
world  have  a  legitimate  application  in  the  moral,  and  a 
far  more  significant  meaning.  It  is  as  proper  to  speak  of 
the  “growth”  of  the  mind,  as  of  the  “growth”  of  the 
body ;  of  the  “  development  ”  of  a  nation,  as  of  the 
“  development  ”  of  an  oak.  These  two  growths  differ, 
toto  genere ,  in  respect  to  the  base  from  which  each  pro¬ 
ceeds — the  one  being  material,  and  the  other  mental ;  the 
one  being  necessitated  by  physical  law,  and  the  other 
being  spontaneous  self-determination — but  they  agree,  in 
that  both  are  alike  continuous,  sequacious,  and  evolving 
processes.  The  phrases,  “  principles  of  history,”  “  laws  of 
history,”  “ideas  and  forces  in  history,”  which  occur  so 
frequently  in  essays  and  treatises  as  to  become  monoto¬ 
nous,  and  which  render  the  invention  of  synonvmes  and 
circumlocutions  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  rhetorical 
expedients,  all  go  to  prove  that  the  spontaneous  concep¬ 
tion  of  History  is  that  of  a  progressive  evolution  from  a 
primitive  involution. 

If  any  one  doubts  whether  such  phraseology  is  anything 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


125 


more  than  the  play  of  the  fancy,  and  is  inclined  to  believe 
that  there  is  no  actual  correspondent  to  these  terms  in 
the  truth  and  fact  of  the  case,  let  him  ask  himself  the 
question  :  “  If  History  lias  no  real  and  solid  substance,  of 
the  nature  of  germs,  principles,  ideas,  laws  and  forces,  then 
what  substantial  matter  has  it  at  all  ?  If  these  are  all 
unreal,  the  mere  fictions  of  the  fancy,  with  no  objective 
correspondents  in  that  career  of  man  on  the  globe  which 
every  one  concedes  to  be  a  reality,  and  the  most  solemn 
of  all,  then  what  is  the  real  essence  of  Historv  ?  ”  For 
throwing  out  such  deeper  and  more  vital  contents  as  we 
are  speaking  of,  there  remain  only  the  unconnected 
materials  of  names,  dates,  and  occurrences  ;  a  multitudi¬ 
nous  sea  of  effects  without  causes,  an  ocean  of  phenomena 
without  a  supporting  ground,  a  chaos  of  atoms  with  no 
sort  of  connection  or  intermingling.  A  search  after  the 
truth  and  substance  of  the  department,  in  this  instance,  as 
in  all  others,  carries  the  mind  below  the  surface  to  consti¬ 
tuent  elements  and  principles,  so  that  it  perceives  the 
world  of  Human  History  to  be,  after  its  own  kind ,  as  full 
of  germs,  laws,  and  forces,  as  the  globe  beneath  our  feet ; 
and  that  the  characteristic  of  reality,  of  forceful  influential 
being,  is  as  predicable  of  the  former  as  of  the  latter. 

This  essential  matter  of  Human  History  is  continually 
passing  through  an  evolution.  This  germ  is  slowly  un¬ 
folding  as  it  is  the  nature  of  all  germs  to  do.  Egyptian 
wheat  may  sleep  in  the  swathes  and  foldings  of  a  mummy 
through  three  thousand  springs,  but  the  purpose  of  its 
creation  cannot  be  thwarted  except  by  the  destruction  of 
its  germinal  substance.  It  was  created  to  grow,  and  not¬ 
withstanding  this  long  interval  of  slumbering  life  the  de- 
velopment  begins  the  instant  the  moist  earth  closes  over  it. 
In  like  manner  an  idea  which  originally  belongs  to  the 
history  of  humanity  may  be  hindered  in  its  progress,  and 


126 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


for  ages  may  seem  to  be  out  of  existence ;  yet  it  is  none 
the  less  in  being  and  a  reality.  It  is  all  the  while  a  factor 
in  the  earthly  career  of  mankind,  and  the  historian  who 
should  throw  it  out  of  the  account  would  misconceive  and 
misrepresent  the  entire  historic  process.  An  idea  of 
human  reason,  like  popular  liberty,  e.  g.,  may  make  no  ex¬ 
ternal  appearance  for  whole  periods,  but  its  reappearance, 
with  an  energy  of  operation  heightened  by  its  long  sup¬ 
pression  in  the  consciousness  of  nations,  is  the  most  im¬ 
pressive  of  all  proofs  that  it  has  a  necessary  existence  in 
human  nature,  and  is  destined  to  be  developed.  A  doc¬ 
trine  of  divine  reason,  like  that  of  justification  by  Christ’s 
atonement,  is  a  positive  truth  which  has  been  lodged  in  the 
Christian  mind  by  divine  revelation,  and  is  destined  to 
a  universal  influence,  a  complete  development,  in  and 
through  the  Church,  notwithstanding  that  some  branches 
and  ages  of  the  Church  have  lost  it  out  of  their  religious 
experience.  Whatever  has  been  inlaid  either  in  matter  or 
in  mind  by  the  Creator  of  both,  is  destined  by  Him  and 
under  his  own  superintendence  to  be  evolved  ;  and  of  all 
such  necessary  matter,  be  it  in  natural  or  in  moral  history, 
we  may  say  that  not  a  particle  of  it  will  be  annihilated  ; 
it  will  pass  through  the  predetermined  stages  of  a  devel¬ 
opment  and  obtain  a  full  exhibition. 

1.  Proceeding,  then,  to  the  analytic  definition  of  this 
idea  of  evolution,  which  enters  so  thoroughlv  into  the 
theory  and  philosophy  of  History,  the  first  characteristic 
that  strikes  our  notice  is  the  necessary  connection  of  parts. 
Isolation  is  impossible.  Ho  single  part  can  stand  alone  and 
exist  by  itself.  The  principle  of  interconnection  binds  all 
together,  so  that  the  part  exists  only  in  and  for  the  whole. 
Atoms,  in  the  original  and  strict  meaning  of  the  term,  are 
no  constituents  of  a  process  of  evolution,  and  the  atomic 
theory  can  throw  no  light  upon  such  a  process.  The  atom, 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY, 


127 


bv  the  very  etymology,  is  entirely  disconnected  from  all 
besides  itself.  Matter  has  been  cut  down,  ideally,  to  that 
infinitesimal  point  at  which  it  constitutes  the  very  first 
element,  and,  consequently,  is  now  out  of  all  connection,  a 
single  independent  unit  by  itself.  Iso  such  element  as 
this,  unassimilated  and  remaining  so,  can  be  a  rudimental 
part  in  a  development.  Nothing  that  asserts  an  isolated 
existence,  and  obstinately  refuses  to  enter  into  connections, 
can  go  into  an  evolution.  The  atomic  particles  of  a  heap 
of  sand,  for  example,  can  never  be  part  or  particle  of  a 
process  of  growth,  because  each  exists  by  and  for  itself. 
A  rope  of  sand  is  the  symbol  of  disconnection. 

If  now  we  test  the  history  of  man  by  this  first  charac¬ 
teristic  of  an  evolution,  do  we  not  find  exact  agreement 
between  the  two  conceptions?  Human  History  is  a  con¬ 
tinuous  line  of  connections.  We  can  no  more  conceive  of 
a  true  break  or  perfect  disconnection  in  it,  than  in  the 
current  of  a  river.  Though  it  naturally  divides  into 
periods  and  ages,  distinguished  from  each  other  by  epo¬ 
chal  points,  yet  there  is  no  separation  at  these  points.  The 
epoch  itself,  like  a  living  joint  in  the  human  frame,  is 
itself  a  tie  by  which  the  parts  are  articulated  together  and 
constitute  one  continuous  organism.  It  is  as  impossible 
to  find  a  real  break  and  absolute  disconnection  in  the  his¬ 
tory  of  man,  as  in  the  history  of  nature.  In  nature, 
nothing  but  a  miracle  can  stop  the  onward  flow  of  a 
stream  and  wall  up  the  waters  on  each  side  of  a  dry  space 
in  its  channel ;  and  nothing  but  a  new  fiat  of  creative 
power  could  now  sever  the  human  race  into  two  halves, 
each  of  which  should  be  entirely  separate  from  the  other, 
and  between  which  there  should  be  no  more  reciprocity 
of  connection  and  influence  than  there  is  between  the 
angelic  hosts  and  the  human  race.  As  the  historian  fol- 
lows  the  line  backwards  up  toward  the  point  of  beginning, 


128 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

he  finds  the  succeeding  linked  to  the  preceding,  civil¬ 
ization  joining  on  upon  civilization,  arts  and  inventions 
clinging  to  arts  and  inventions  further  ujd  the  line,  litera¬ 
tures  and  religions  tied  to  preceding  ones  ;  in  short,  he 
never  comes  to  a  point  where  there  are  no  connected 
antecedents  until  lie  reaches  the  beginning  of  human  his- 
tory,  where  the  basis  for  the  whole  process  was  laid  by  a 
fiat,  supernatural  and  creative.* 

2.  The  second  characteristic  of  an  evolution  is  the  nat¬ 
ural  connection  of  parts.  The  sequence  is  not  arbitrary 
and  capricious;  mere  juxtaposition  without  any  rational 
coherence.  The  two  parts  that  are  connected  have  a 
mutual  adaptation  to  each  other.  The  one  was  evidently 
intended  to  succeed  the  other,  and  the  other  evidently 
prepares  for  and  expects  the  one.  There  is,  consequently, 
nothing  strange  or  whimsical  in  a  genuine  evolution, 
either  in  the  sphere  of  nature  or  of  spirit.  Everything 
advances  with  a  tranquil  uniformity  that  precludes  start¬ 
ling  and  unexpected  changes,  because  each  and  every  part 
is  a  preparation  for  that  which  is  to  come.  Any  move¬ 
ment  in  nature  is  always  impressive  from  the  perfect 
serenity  with  which  it  proceeds.  Be  it  on  a  small,  or  on 
a  large  scale,  be  it  the  blowing  of  a  rose,  or  the  gor- 
geous  death  of  the  forest  after  the  bloom  and  fulness  of 

*  Back  of  the  creative  act  there  is  no  evolution  and  no  history.  His¬ 
tory  is  in  time  solely,  and  pertains  solely  to  the  finite  and  created.  It 
implies  succession  and  changes,  and  therefore  cannot  pertain  to  a  Being 
who,  unlike  his  works,  is  not  subject  to  evolving  processes  of  any  kind, 
but  is  “  the  same,  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.”  God  has  no  history 
because  He  has  no  development.  “The  God  of  the  Bible,”  says 
Guizot  (Meditations,  1st  series,  192),  “has  no  biography,  neither  has  he 
any  personal  adventures.  Nothing  happens  to  him,  and  nothing  changes 
in  him  ;  he  is  always  and  invariably  the  same,  a  Being  real  and  personal, 
absolutely  distinct  from  the  finite  world  and  from  humanity,  identical 
and  immutable  in  the  bosom  of  the  infinite  diversity  and  movement.  ‘  I 
am  that  I  am  ’  is  the  sole  definition  that  he  vouchsafes  of  himself.” 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


129 


summer,  the  process  is  as  quiet  as  spring,  as  still  as 
autumn. 

Were  connection  in  an  evolution  unnatural,  were  it 
whimsical  and  capricious,  the  impression  made  by  it  would 
be  very  different  from  what  it  actually  is.  That  fortuitous 
connection  of  parts,  of  which  atheism  in  ancient  and 
in  modern  times  makes  so  much,  is  incompatible  with 
the  doctrine  of  development.  This  latter  requires  natural 
and  adapted  connection,  and  hence  a  presiding  intel¬ 
ligence  that  sees  and  prepares  the  end  from  the  beginning. 

It  is  indeed  true,  that  the  idea  of  evolution  which  we 
are  analyzing  has  been  employed  in  an  atheistic  man¬ 
ner,  and  enters  largely  into  all  pantheistic  methods.  Of 
this  we  shall  speak  hereafter,  and  against  it  we  shall 
endeavor  to  guard,  when  examining  the  limitations  and 
applications  of  the  idea.  But  even  at  this  point  in  the 
discussion,  it  is  very  obvious,  that  provided  the  basis  \ 
and  germ  of  the  evolution  is  not  supposed  to  be  self-origi-  1 
nated ,  but  is  referred  to  the  hat  of  a  Creator  who  is  en¬ 
tirely  above  it,  and  out  of  it,  and  the  absolute  disposer  of 
it ;  provided  the  germ  is  regarded  as  a  pure  creation  from 
nothing,  then  the  naturalness  of  the  sequences,  from  that 
initial  point,  furnishes  one  of  the  most  convincing  argu¬ 
ments  against  the  doctrine  of  chance.  Were  there  merely 
hap-hazard  connection  without  inward  coherence,  there 
would  be  no  evidence  of  an  adaptive  power,  and  an  intel¬ 
ligent  Author  of  the  process.  But  seeing,  as  we  do, 
in  every  genuine  evolution,  a  prophetic  anticipation  of  the 
succeeding  in  every  element  of  the  preceding,  beholding, 
as  we  do,  a  deliberate  and  intentional  progress  from  point 
to  point,  in  this  u  thing  of  life.”  the  notion  of  fortuity 
is  banished  at  once  from  the  mind. 

If  now  we  test  human  History  by  this  second  character¬ 
istic  of  an  evolution,  we  again  see  the  coincidence  and 
6* 


130 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

identity  of  the  two  conceptions.  Nothing  is  more  natural 
in  its  connections  than  the  history  of  mankind.  Symme¬ 
trical  gradations,  expected  transitions,  anticipated  termi¬ 
nations,  appear  all  along  its  course.  Nothing  is  abrupt  and 
saltatory  in  the  historic  movement,  but  one  thing  follows 
on  after  another  with  all  the  ease  and  naturalness  of  phys¬ 
ical  growth  itself.  There  are  convulsions  and  revolutions 
in  the  process,  it  is  true,  but  they  are  always  prepared 
for.  They  may  indeed,  and  they  often  do,  burst  upon  the 
notice  of  the  living  actors  in  them  with  the  suddenness  and 
crash  of  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky,  but  it  is  because 
the  living  actors  are  unthinking  actors,  and  give  no  heed 
to  the  significant  premonitions.  The  student  of  History, 
however,  the  reflecting  mind  that  is  not  so  caught  in  this 
mighty  stream  of  tendency  as  to  be  unable  to  rise  above  it 
and  see  the  historic  preparation,  is  never  startled  in  this 
manner.  He  sees  the  awful  preparation  in  the  preceding 
centuries  of  tyranny,  of  poverty,  of  ignorance,  of  irre- 
ligion.  Up  in  his  mjnd  it  is  no  sudden  shooting  of  a 
meteor  from  the  depths  of  space  into  the  totally  black 
vault  of  night,  but  a  true  sunrise.  For  him,  “  far  off  its 
coming  shone.”  Yet  the  student  sees  only  what  really 
exists.  He  does  not  make  History,  but  finds  it ;  and  he 
finds  it,  even  in  its  wildest  and  apparently  most  capricious 
sections,  a  genuine  evolution  or  series  of  natural  connec¬ 
tions. 

3.  The  third  characteristic  of  an  evolution  is  the  organ¬ 
ic  connection  of  the  parts.  In  this  we  reach  the  summit 
of  the  series,  and  arrive  at  the  most  significant  and  fruit- 
ful  property.  For  the  connection  between  two  things  may 
be  both  necessary  and  natural,  and  yet  not  organic. 
Mechanical  connection  is  such.  Take,  for  example,  two 
cog  wheels  in  a  machine.  Here  the  parts  are  necessarily 
connected  ;  that  is,  they  have  no  value  except  in  relation 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


131 


to  each  other.  And  they  are  naturally  connected  ;  that  is, 
they  are  adapted  by  their  construction  to  play  into  each 
other.  But  there  is  no  higher  bond  than  this  merely  ex- 
ternal  and  mechanic  one.  There  is  connection,  but  no 
interconnection.  The  term  “organic,”  consequently, 
merits  fuller  examination  than  either  of  the  others  that 
haye  been  employed  in  the  analysis. 

Perhaps  no  better  definition  of  an  organism  can  be 
given  than  that  of  Kant.  As  distinguished  from  a  me¬ 
chanism,  he  defines  it  as  “  a  product  in  which  each  and 
every  part  is,  reciprocally ,  means  and  end *  If  we  look 
at  the  human  body,  for  example,  we  find  that  each  consti¬ 
tuent  portion  must  be  regarded,  now,  as  the  sole  end  for 
which  the  whole  exists,  and,  then  again,  as  merely  the 
means  or  instrument  by  which  the  whole  exists.  The  flesh, 
in  one  aspect  of  it,  is  the  end  for  which  the  functions 
of  respiration,  circulation,  secretion,  digestion,  and  loco¬ 
motion,  are  carried  on.  In  one  view  of  them,  all  these 
great  processes  have  for  their  sole  object  this  clothing  of 
the  immortal  with  its  mortality.  And  yet  we  see  again, 
that  the  production  of  this  tissue  is  itself  only  a  means 
whereby  these  systems  of  respiration,  circulation,  diges¬ 
tion,  and  secretion,  are  themselves  kept  in  operation.  The 
whole  body  exists  for  the  eye,  as  truly  as  the  eye  exists  for 
the  whole  body  ;  for  if  this  or  any  other  member  be 
maimed  or  mutilated,  the  entire  vital  force  of  the  organ¬ 
ism  is  at  once  subsidized  and  set  to  work  to  repair  the 
injury.  It  is  this  reciprocity  in  the  relation  of  the  parts, 
that  betokens  the  organic  connection.  It  is  this  existence 
of  the  part  for  the  whole,  and  of  the  whole  for  the  part, 
that  sets  an  organism  so  much  higher  up  the  scale  of  ex¬ 
istence  than  a  mechanism. 


*  Urtheilskraft,  §  65. 


132 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


An  organic  development,  consequently,  be  it  within  the 
sphere  of  nature  or  of  mind,  is  one  in  which  all  the  ele¬ 
ments  and  agencies  mutually  relate  to  each  other,  and 
mutually  influence  each  other.  Intercommunication,  in¬ 
termingling,  action  and  reaction ;  these  and  such  like,  are 
the  terms  that  set  our  thoughts  upon  the  trail  of  such  a 
constantly  shifting  and  changing  process  as  that  of  an  ex¬ 
panding  germ.  For  it  is  because  the  conception  which 
we  are  endeavoring  to  define  is  so  full  of  pliant,  elastic, 
and  interfusing  properties,  that  it  is  so  difficult  to  fix  it  in 
language.  It  is  because  the  word  “  evolution  ”  is  so  allied 
to  that  other  most  inexplicable  word  “  life,”  that  a  writer 
has  done  the  best  that  can  be  done,  if,  by  his  approximate 
statements,  he  has  merely  awakened  the  mind  to  an  inti¬ 
mation  of  the  meaning,  and  set  it  musing  upon  the  sugges¬ 
tive  but  mysterious  thought. 

Again,  this  action  and  reaction,  this  interconnection 
and  intermingling,  implies  inward  and  unceasing  motion 
in  an  organism.  Whenever  an  evolution  comes  to  a  total 
stop,  it  comes  to  a  dead  stop. 

“By  ceaseless  motion  all  that  is  subsists. 

Constant  rotation  of  the  unwearied  wheel 
That  Nature  rides  upon  maintains  her  health, 

Her  beauty,  her  fertility.  She  dreads 

An  instant’s  pause,  and  lives  but  while  she  moves.”  * 

Movement  is  inseparable  from  the  conception,  and  hence 
the  adjective  “  progressive  ”  is  always  connected  with  the 
substantive,  either  expressly  or  by  ellipsis.  The  notion  of 
an  incessant  flux  and  reflux  of  elements  and  properties  is 
as  inseparable  from  the  idea  of  an  evolution,  as  it  is  in¬ 
compatible  with  that  of  artificial  composition.  In  the  in- 

*  Cowper’s  Task,  B.  I.  Similarly  Plato  (Phsedrus,  245  c.)  remarks? 
rb  5e  vtt  &Wov  kivov^vov  iravXau  %xov  Kiyrjffecas,  iravXau  %x€l 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


133 


stance  of  mechanical  production,  the  motion  is  all  ab  extra , 
in  the  mind  of  the  workman.  Ilis  work,  after  all  that 
his  inventive  genius  has  done  to  it,  is  as  hard,  immobile, 
and  internally  dead  as  it  ever  was.  It  has  in  it  nothing 
of  an  expansion,  because  the  living  principle  by  which  it 
was  originated  is  not  in  it,  but  in  the  mind  of  the  mechanic. 
This,  it  is  true,  is  a  living  thing,  a  living  soul,  but  it  is 
unable  to  imbreathe  itself,  as  a  principle  of  growth  and 
formation,  into  its  rigid  wooden  or  metallic  product.  The 
story  of  Pygmalion  and  his  statue  is  still  a  fable.  The 
“breathing”  marble,  and  the  “  glowing  ”  canvas  are  still 
and  ever  figures  of  speech.  No  product  of  finite  power 
can  be  organic  ;  for  there  is  no  pervasive  moulding  of  the 
elements,  no  assimilation  of  the  rudiments,  no  internal  stir 
and  fusion,  in  the  work  of  the  creature. 

Again,  an  organic  process  implies  potentiality  aft  the 
basis  of  it.  It  is  of  importance,  at  this  point,  to  direct 
attention  to  the  distinction  between  creation  and  evolu¬ 
tion,  and  thereby  preclude  the  pantheistic  employment  of 
the  latter  idea.  An  evolution  is  simply  the  unfolding  of 
that  which  has  been  previously  folded  up,  and  not  the 
origination  of  entity  from  nonentity.  The  growth  of  a 
germ  is  not  the  creation  of  it,  but  is  merely  the  expansion 
of  a  substance  already  existing.  All  attempts,  therefore, 
to  explain  the  origin  of  the  universe  by  the  doctrine  of 
evolution,  like  the  Indian  Cosmogony,  drive  the  mind  back 
from  point  to  point  in  a  series  of  secondary  processes,  still 
leaving  the  inquiry  after  the  primary  origin  and  actual 
beginning  of  things  unanswered.  For  it  is  not  creation, 
but  only  emanation,  when  the  world  is  regarded  as  the 
evolution  of  an  eternal  germ.  Such  a  conception  as  this 
latter  is,  moreover,  metaphysically  absurd;  for  the  idea 
of  undeveloped  being  has  no  rational  meaning  except  in 
reference  to  the  Temporal  and  the  Finite.  Progressive 


134  THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

development  within  the  Divine  nature  would  imply  a 
career  for  the  Deity  in  which  He  was  passing  from  less  to 
more  perfect  stages  of  existence,  and  would  thus  bring 
Him  within  the  sphere  of  the  relative  and  conditioned. 
Latency  or  potentiality  is  necessarily  excluded  from  the 
Eternal  One,  by  virtue  of  that  absolute  perfection  and 
metaphysical  self-completeness  whereby  his  being  is 
“  without  variableness  or  shadow  of  turning.”  His  uncre- 
ated  essence  is  incapable  of  evolving  processes,  and  hence 
the  created  universe  cannot  be  a  part  of  the  Divine  essence, 
but  must  be  another  and  secondary  substance  which  is 
the  pure  make  of  his  sheer  fiat.  To  the  question,  there¬ 
fore,  which  still  and  ever  returns  :  “  How  does  this  poten¬ 
tial  basis  come  into  existence  ?  To  what,  or  to  whom,  do 
these  germs  of  future  and  unceasing  processes  in  matter 
and  in  mind  owe  their  origin  ?  ”  the  theist  gives  but  one 
answer.  He  applies  the  doctrine  of  creation  out  of  noth¬ 
ing,  to  all  germinal  substance  whatsoever.* 

For  the  Deity,  though  self-complete  and  incapable  of 
development  himself,  has  yet  made  that  which  is  potential 

*  The  whole  fabric  of  ancient  and  modern  Pantheism  rests  upon  the 
petitio  principii  that  the  doctrine  of  evolution  has  the  same  legitimate 
application  to  the  Infinite  and  Eternal,  that  it  has  to  the  Finite  and 
Temporal.  There  are  fatal  objections  to  this  pantheistic  postulate. 
First,  it  contradicts  the  idea  of  an  Eternal  Being.  For  the  eternal  is  the 
unchangeable ;  but  evolution  is  change  itself.  Furthermore,  the  con¬ 
sciousness  of  an  eternal  Being  must  be  all-comprehending  and  there¬ 
fore  simultaneous  and  without  succession ;  but  if,  like  man  or  angel, 
God  is  capable  of  an  evolution,  he  must  be  conscious  of  the  series  of 
changes  implied  in  it.  Secondly,  the  pantheistic  postulate  contradicts 
the  idea  of  an  absolutely  Perfect  Being.  For  if  all  Being  is  only  one 
Being,  and  is  passing  from  less  perfect  to  more  perfect  modes  of  e  dst- 
ence,  and  may  pass  from  more  perfect  to  less  perfect  (since  evolution 
may  proceed  in  either  direction),  then  there  is  no  absolutely  Perfect 
Being  whatever.  All  Being  is  going  on  to  perfection,  perhaps,  but  as 
yet  all  Being  is  imperfect. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


135 


and  destined  to  an  unfolding,  lie  has  created  a  universe 
of  matter  and  mind  that  is  full  of  latent  powers  and  agen¬ 
cies.  The  works  of  his  hand  not  only  display  excellence 
in  the  very  first  moments  of  their  existence,  but  reveal  a 
still  more  marvellous  excellence  as  thev  unfold  and  evolve 
their  interior  capacities.  The  whole  progress  of  natural 
science  is  a  gaze  of  admiration,  and  should  be  an  anthem 
of  adoration,  towards  an  Architect  who  has  inlaid  that 
which  is  still  more  wonderful  than  what  appears  on  the 
surface ;  who  has  provided  in  the  single,  instantaneous, 
creative,  act  of  his  omnipotence,  for  an  evolution  which 
is  to  run  on  under  his  own  superintendence  through  all 
coming  ages,  until  stopped  by  the  same  miraculous  fiat.* 
In  this  property  of  potentiality,  thus  strictly  defined  and 
distinguished,  we  have  one  of  the  most  absolute  essentials 
of  an  evolution.  If  this  conception  is  unreal,  then  is  that 
of  evolution.  If  we  cannot  conceive  of,  and  believe  in, 
the  previous  creation  and  deposit  of  a  material,  in  order 
that  it  may  be  used  at  a  future  time,  of  the  implanting 
of  a  principle  which  is  to  manifest  itself,  it  may  be,  ages 
ahead,  of  the  predetermination  of  a  process  and  a  prepara¬ 
tion  for  it  long  before  it  becomes  an  actuality ;  if  all  such 
ideas  as  these  are  visionary,  and  all  such  thinking  as  this 

*  Theology  distinguishes  between  substances  and  their  modifications  ; 
that  is,  between  what  is  originated  from  nothing,  and  what  develops 
from  that  which  is  thus  originated.  “It  is  the  former, ”  says  Howe 
(Oracles,  II.  ix.),  “  that  is  the  proper  object  of  creation  strictly  taken ; 
the  modifications  of  things  are  not  properly  created,  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  creation,  but  are  educed  and  brought  forth  out  of  those  sub¬ 
stantial  things  that  were  themselves  created,  or  made  out  of  nothing.” 

It  is  obvious  to  remark,  here,  that  at  no  point  in  its  history  can  a 
created  substance  become  self -subsistent.  Hence,  all  processes  of  evo¬ 
lution  must  be  regarded  as  conducted  under  a  sustaining  energy  from 
God,  which  in  technical  phrase  is  Providence ,  in  distinction  from  Crea¬ 
tion.  The  predetermination  of  the  process,  and  the  preparation  for 
it,  is,  in  the  same  technical  phraseology,  the  Divine  Decree. 


136 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

has  no  correspondent  in  the  world  of  reality ;  then  the 
idea  of  an  organic  development  is  inconceivable  and  ab¬ 
surd.  The  best  argument  in  its  favor,  however,  would  be 
to  throw  it  all  away,  by  thinking  it  all  away,  and  then 
seriously  ask  the  question  :  “  What  solid  thing  is  now  left 
either  in  the  created  universe  of  nature  or  of  mind  ?  ” 
Expel  the  fact  of  potency,  of  latent  powers  and  principles, 
from  the  sphere  of  the  Created,  in  which  alone,  as  we  have 
remarked  above,  it  has  any  application,  and  nothing  is  left 
but  the  phenomena  of  the  instant,  or  a  world  of  shadows 
and  spectra. 

Finally,  an  organic  development  implies  identity  of 
original  substance  in  alTthe  phenomenal  changes  that  ac¬ 
company  the  expanding  process.  Those  who  have  con¬ 
founded  the  idea  which  we  are  defining,  with  that  of  cre¬ 
ation,  have  also  misapprehended  it  at  this  point.  The 
gradual  advance  in  an  evolution  from  something  old  to 
something  new,  is  not  a  progress  to  something  absolutely 
new  ;  that  is  new  in  the  sense  of  never  having  had  any 
kind  of  existence  before.  An  evolution  can  never  produce 
anything  aboriginal ;  it  cannot  create  ex  nihilo.  The 
Creator  alone  can  do  this,  and  lie  does  it  when  by  His 
fiat  He  calls  the  germ  with  all  its  potentiality  into  being. 
An  evolution  cannot  add  an  iota  to  the  sum  of  created  sub¬ 
stance.  It  is  confined,  by  the  supernatural  and  omnipo¬ 
tent  power  that  called  its  germ  into  existence,  to  a  prede¬ 
termined  course  and  task  ;  which  is  simply,  and  purely, 
and  exactly,  to  put  forth  what’  has  been  put  in,  to  evolve 
just  what  has  been  involved. 

It  follows,  consequently,  that  the  progressive  advance 
and  unfolding  which  is  to  be  seen  all  along  the  line  of  an 
evolution  is  simply  the  expansion  over  a  wider  surface  of 
that  which  from  the  instant  of  its  creation  has  existed  in 
a  more  invisible  and  metaphysical  form.  The  progress 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


137 


or  gain  is  formal  and  not  material,  external  and  not  in¬ 
ternal,  visible  and  not  invisible.  Whether  we  take  a  seed 
like  the  acorn,  or  an  entity  like  the  human  race,  it  is  evi¬ 
dent  that  development  can  create  no  new  primary  sub¬ 
stance,  or  essential  principle,  in  either.  The  utmost  which 
the  vivific  life  in  each  instance  can  do,  is  to  assimilate  al- 
readv  existing  materials  in  order  to  its  own  manifestation. 
The  last  individual  oak  preserves  its  identity  of  substance, 
and  sameness  of  essential  principle,  with  the  first  acorn, 
and  the  births  of  individual  men  are  not  so  many  hundred 
millions  of  repetitions  of  the  creative  act,  but  only  a  serial 
exhibition  of  the  result  of  the  single  fiat  in  Eden  ;  of  the 
one  human  species,  or  common  substance  of  humanity, 
with  the  origin  of  which  the  creation  of  man,  as  distin¬ 
guished  from  his  propagation,  began  and  ended.  For  if, 
on  the  one  hand,  there  were  an  annihilation  and  subtrac¬ 
tion  of  the  old  aboriginal  matter,  or,  on  the  other,  a  crea¬ 
tion  and  addition  of  a  new,  there  would  be  a  departure 
from  the  archetype,  and  the  tree  would  be  another  than 
the  oak,  and  the  individual  would  not  be  a  true  specimen 
of  humanity.  But  such  deviations  are  precluded;  for  this 
potential  basis,  from  which  the  evolution  starts,  is  the  in¬ 
volution  that  contains  not  only  all  the  essential  substance 
of  the  process,  but  also  the  law  by  which  it  is  to  be  devel¬ 
oped  and  exhibited ;  so  that  while  there  is  unceasing 
change  and  constant  variety  in  the  outward  manifesta¬ 
tion,  there  is  perfect  identity  and  sameness  in  the  inward 
essence. 

Passing,  now,  from  the  tangled  wilderness  of  analytic 
definition,  into  the  level  and  open  fields  of  application 
and  illustration,  if  we  test  human  History  by  this  third 
characteristic  of  an  evolution,  we  shall  see  more  plainly 
than  ever,  that  the  two  conceptions  agree  with  each  other. 
The  history  of  man  is  certainly  characterized  by  recipro- 


138 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


cal  action  in  its  elements.  Ideas,  principles,  laws,  forces, 
events,  and  men,  are  constantly  acting  and  reacting  upon 
eacli  other  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  a  historic 
process.  Everything  influences  everything.  Everything 
receives  influence  from  everything.  It  is  impossible  to 
make  a  separation  between  the  factors,  so  that  this  inter¬ 
action  and  intermingling  shall  stop  at  a  given  point. 
Take  a  single  feature  of  Secular  History,  for  illustration 
the  Political  Revolutions,  and  see  how  this  law  of  recipro¬ 
cal  action  prevails.  The  idea  of  liberty  promulgated  in 
one  nation  becomes  the  realized  fact  in  another,  and  the 
realized  fact,  again,  becomes  the  stimulating  example 
which  w^akes  the  slumbering  idea  in  a  third.  A  treatise 
on  government  by  Sidney  in  the  seventeenth  century  and 
in  monarchical  England,  finds  its  realization  in  the  eigh¬ 
teenth  century  in  the  American  Constitution.  This  con¬ 
crete  example  repasses  the  Atlantic,  and  becomes  the 
mightiest  of  the  forces  that  convulse  the  old  feudal  mon- 
archy  of  France,  and  the  most  influential  of  the  agencies  at 
work  in  Europe  for  the  political  elevation  of  the  masses. 
But  that  treatise  of  Sidney  itself  was  not  merely  the 
propagator  of  influences  ;  it  was  the  recipient  of  a  most 
mighty  influence  coming  down  from  the  remote  past.  The 
currents  of  Greek  and  Roman  Republicanism  flowed 
through  the  English  Republican.  The  political  brain  of 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  of  Brutus  the  Consul  and  Brutus  the 
Patriot,  was  the  brain  in  the  heart  of  Sidney. 

If  we  look  at  any  of  the  processes  in  the  natural  world, 
do  we  find  any  more  convincing  proofs  of  interaction  and 
reciprocity  of  agencies,  than  we  find  in  the  world  of 
human  society  %  If  the  terms  action  and  reaction  are  not 
figurative  in  the  former  sphere,  are  they  not  full  of  the 
most  solid  meaning  in  the  latter  \  And  is  it  not  the  true 
end  and  aim  of  the  student  of  human  History,  to  make 


AXD  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


139 


this  plav  of  living  agencies  and  influences  as  real  to  his 
own  mind  and  feelings,  as  its  correspondent  is  to  the  stu¬ 
dent  of  nature  ?  The  scientific  naturalist  cannot  for  a 
moment  believe  that  nature  is  a  mechanism,  and  that 
organism  is  a  fiction  and  metaphor  in  this  realm.  A 
thousand  treatises,  each  a  thousand  times  more  ingenious 
than  that  in  which  Des  Cartes*  attempts  to  demonstrate 
that  all  so-called  vital  forces  in  the  lower  animals  are  in 
reality  mechanical  ones,  and  that  the  body  of  the  brute  is 
as  much  an  artificial  production  as  a  watch,  would  not 
overthrow  the  belief  of  the  natural  philosopher  that  the 
physical  world  exhibits  in  all  parts  of  it  a  process  of 
organic  development,  and  that  natural  objects  are  the 
products  of  a  law  of  life  and  growth.  The  conviction 
that  there  is  an  internal  and  not  merely  fanciful  analogy 
between  the  worlds  of  nature  and  of  mind,  so  that  the 
same  fundamental  fact  of  evolution  prevails  in  both,  should 
firmly  possess  the  mind  of  the  inquirer  in  the  department 
of  human  History.  The  relation  between  the  subjective 
principle  and  the  outward  stimuli  is  the  same  in  one  in¬ 
stance  as  in  the  other.  Is  there  any  more  of  vital  recipro¬ 
city  between  the  tropical  Fauna  or  Flora,  and  the  tem¬ 
perature,  amount  of  atmospheric  moisture,  elevation  of 
the  land  above  the  sea.  prevailing  winds,  amount  of  sun¬ 
light,  geological  formation  and  soil,  of  the  tropical  regions, 
than  there  is  of  vital  reciprocity  between  the  Celtic,  Gothic, 
and  Homan  components  of  national  character,  the  insular 
isolating  residence,  the  influence  of  Greek  and  Homan 

U  ' 

literatures,  of  commerce,  of  the  Christian  religion,  of 
the  intestine  w^ars  of  the  Hoses  and  the  wars  for  foreign 
conquest,  and  the  historical  development  of  England  ? 

* li  He  denied  the  supermaterialism  of  animal  life,  placing  it  entirely 
under  the  laws  of  mechanics,  as  many  are  now  denying  the  supematu- 
ralism  of  Christianity.” — Twesten's  Dogmatik.  I.  318. 


140 


THE  IDEA.  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


Ought  not  the  analysis  and  contemplation  of  this  recipro¬ 
city  of  agencies  to  produce  the  same  sense  of  organic  con¬ 
nections,  the  same  fresh  feeling  of  a  living  process,  and 
the  same  enthusiastic  wonder,  with  which  the  naturalist 
examines  material  nature ;  with  which  a  Gilbert  White 
minutely  surveys  physical  nature  within  the  limits  of  his 
rural  parish  ;  with  which  a  Humboldt  surveys  the  cos¬ 
mos  ?  * 

Again,  is  not  Human  Historv  like  anv  other  organic 
development,  characterized  by  an  inward  and  unceasing 
motion?  Is  there  any  stagnation  or  immobility  in  it? 
Seize  the  process  of  human  life  at  any  point  you  please, 
and  do  you  not  find  it  stirring  like  a  force  and  beating 
like  a  pulse?  Even  the  most  externally  motionless  period 
has  its  fierce  passions  and  intense  emotions.  The  darkest 
of  the  .Dark  Ages,  the  more  it  is  studied,  the  more  is  it 
seen  to  have  a  human  interest.  The  most  stagnant  stratum 

*  “  Those  truths  are  always  most  valuable  which  are  most  historical, 
that  is,  which  tell  us  most  about  the  past  and  future  states  of  the 
object  to  which  they  belong1.  In  a  tree,  for  instance,  it  is  more  import- 
tant  to  give  the  appearance  of  energy  and  elasticity  in  the  limbs  which 
is  indicative  of  growth  and  life,  than  any  particular  character  of  leaf,  or 
texture  of  bough.  It  is  more  important  that  we  should  feel  that  the 
uppermost  sprays  are  creeping  higher  and  higher  into  the  sky,  and  be 
impressed  with  the  current  of  life  and  motion  which  is  animating  every 
fibre,  than  that  we  should  view  the  exact  pitch  of  relief  with  which 
those  fibres  are  thrown  out  against  the  sky.  For  the  first  truths  tell  us 
tales  about  the  tree,  about  what  it  has  been,  and  will  be,  while  the  last 
are  characteristic  of  it  only  in  its  present  state,  and  are  in  no  way  talk¬ 
ative  about  themselves.  Talkative  facts  are  always  more  interesting 
and  more  important  than  silent  ones.  So  again  the  lines  in  a  crag 
which  mark  its  stratification,  and  how  it  has  been  washed  and  rounded 
by  water,  or  twisted  and  drawn  out  in  fire,  are  more  important,  because 
they  tell  more  than  the  stains  of  the  lichens  which  change  yea]1  by  year, 
and  the  accidental  fissures  of  frost  or  decomposition  ;  not  but  that  both 
of  these  are  historical,  but  historical  in  a  less  distinct  manner  and  foi 
shorter  periods.” — Ruskin’s  Modem  Painters,  I.  chap.  vi. 


AXD  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


141 


of  the  Dead  Sea  undulates.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
savage  has  no  history ;  that  there  is  in  this  form  of  society 
only  a  dead  monotony  unenlivened  by  the  plav  of  human 
feelings  and  the  struggle  of  human  passions.  But  this  is 
not  so.  As,  according  to  Dr,  Johnson,  the  biography  of 
the  most  unimportant  individual  on  the  globe,  were  it 
fully  written  out  so  that  the  life  should  appear  just  and 
fully  as  it  was,  would  overflow  with  interest  and  entertain- 
ment  for  all  men,  so  the  real  every-day  life  of  even  a 
savage  horde  would  be  an  addition  to  Universal  History 
that  would  waken  earnest  attention.  Who  would  not 
eagerly  peruse  the  history  of  a  nomadic  Tartar  tribe,  if  it 
were  written  with  the  simple  and  minute  fidelity  of  a 
chronicle  of  Froissart?*  Who  would  not  even  spare 
some  of  the  more  outwardly  imposing  sections  of  General 
History,  if  in  their  place  he  could  have  a  true  unvarnished 
tale  of  the  wanderings  of  one  of  those  Scythian  or  Celtic 
races  who  were  the  first  to  come  westward  from  Central 
Asia,  the  birthplace  and  cradle  of  mankind  ?  What  a 
charm  and  light  would  be  thrown  over  the  earlier  history 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  if  a  veritable  account  of  one  or  more 
branches  of  that  great  Pelasgic  race  ;  that  savage  source 
of  “  the  beauty  that  was  Greece  and  the  grandeur  that  was 
Rome;5’  should  be  discovered  among  the  manuscripts  of 
a  cloister  ? 

But  the  secret  of  the  interest  which  is  thus  felt  in  any 
and  every  section  of  human  history,  lies  in  the  fact  that 
there  is  an  unceasing  movement,  an  incessant  stir  and  fer¬ 
mentation,  in  each  and  every  section.  The  ocean  itself  is 
not  more  unresting  than  the  history  of  man.  The  oceanic 
currents  are  not  more  distinct  and  unmistakable  than  those 
streams  of  tendency  which  sway  eastward  and  westward, 

*  One  of  the  most  unique  papers  of  De  Quincey  is  “  The  flight  of  a 
Tartar  Tribe.” 


142 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


northward  and  southward,  in  the  migration  of  nations,  in 
the  rise  and  decline  of  civilizations,  in  the  founding  and 
fall  of  empires,  in  the  alternations  of  national  glory  and 
decay.  Motion ,  both  internal  and  external,  is  the  charac¬ 
teristic  which  first  impresses  the  historical  student.  In 
passing  from  other  domains  of  inquiry  into  this,  he  finds 
himself  to  be  coming  out  from  quiet  vales  into  the  region 
of  storms;  from  the  place  of  secured  results  and  garnered 
products,  into  the  place  of  active  preparation  and  produc¬ 
tion.  In  the  sphere  of  Poetry,  there  is  only  the  still  air 
and  golden  light  of  setting  suns.  In  the  sphere  of  Science, 
the  mind  is  in  the  serene  region  of  pure  thought.  But  in 
History,  the  inquirer  comes  out  into  the  world  of  agencies, 
actors,  and  actions,  where  everything  is  under  motion,  and, 
in  the  Baconian  phrase,  all  “  resounds  like  the  mines.” 

Again,  does  not  Human  Historv,  like  any  other  organic 
process,  rest  upon  a  basis  of  potentiality  ?  Human  life  is 
the  Old  in  the  New;  the  old  being  in  a  new  aspect.  Hu¬ 
man  History  does  not  create  its  wealth  and  variety  of  ma¬ 
terial  as  it  goes  along,  but  merely  expands  a  varied  latency 
that  was  originated  primarily  when  the  morning  stars 
sang  together,  and  subsequently  when  Adam  fell.  Poten¬ 
tiality  meets  us  at  every  point,  and  accounts  for  the  lights 
and  shadows  of  the  “  pictured  page.”  National  differences 
and  peculiarities,  and  consequently  all  that  is  unique  and 
distinctive  in  the  career  of  nations,  must  be  referred  to  a 
provision  made  therefor  in  the  day  of  man’s  creation. 
Compare  the  Rome  of  the  age  of  Numa  Pompilius  with 
the  Rome  of  the  age  of  Augustus  Caesar.  The  latter  dis- 
plavs  elements  and  characteristics  that  had  lain  so  entirely 
dormant,  in  preceding  sections  of  this  national  history, 
that  if  Rome  had  gone  out  of  political  existence  in  the 
struggle  with  the  Samnite  or  the  Carthaginian  the  human 
mind  never  would  have  known  of  their  existence,  but  would 


AXD  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


143 


they  for  this  reason  not  have  been  real  entities  ?  It  is  in¬ 
deed  true,  that  they  would  not  have  been  manifested ,  but 
would  they  not  just  as  really  have  been  rudiments  in  that 
original  political  germ  or  basis  for  a  nation  which,  whether 
completely  unfolded  or  not,  had  a  wholeness  and  rounded 
capacity  of  its  own,  because  it  was  an  integral  part  of  the 
“  good  ”  and  perfect  creation  of  God,  in  the  day  that  “the 
Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and 
breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life?”  The  lan¬ 
guage  of  Ezekiel  (xxviii.  13)  respecting  Tyre  is  applicable 
to  every  nation  of  mankind  :  “  Thou  hast  been  in  Eden,  the 
garden  of  God  ;  the  workmanship  of  thy  tabrets,  and  of 
thy  pipes  was  prepared  in  thee  in  the  day  that  thou  wast 
created.”  A  potential  existence  is  by  no  means  an  imagi¬ 
nary  or  fictitious  one.  A  germ  may  not  be  permitted  to 
run  its  course  of  evolution,  and  display  all  its  marvellous 
inlav  of  elements  and  individuals ;  but  it  is  none  the  less  a 

y 

fixed  quantity  by  itself,  and  must  be  estimated  by  what  it 
was  primarily  endowed  with  by  the  Creator.  If  a  race 
should  be  stopped  short  in  mid-career,  by  the  same  fiat  that 
created  it  in  the  beginning,  its  dignity  and  standing  in  the 
scale  of  universal  being  would  have  to  be  determined  bv 

CD  i/ 

its  created  capacities  ;  not  by  what  had  actually  come 
forth,  but  by  what  had  been  originally  put  in  ;  by  the 
amount  of  life  and  the  quantum  of  varied  latency  that  had 
been  primarily  summed  up  in  it. 

It  is  by  virtue  of  this  potential  basis  that  Human  His¬ 
tory  exhibits  that  union  of  two  opposite  properties,  per¬ 
manence  and  progression,  which  is  so  baffling  to  the  mind. 
It  has  a  permanent  identity  and  sameness,  because  it  ex¬ 
hibits  the  same  species  of  being  and  the  same  eternal 
truth  in  all  its  sections.  It  also  presents  a  constant  vari¬ 
ety  and  change,  because  it  shows  this  same  human  nature, 
and  this  same  common  verity,  in  new  forms.  Each  age 


144 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


and  period  is  as  fresh  and  original  in  its  appearance,  as  if  it 
were  the  first  in  the  series,  and  looked  upon  the  new  earth 
for  the  first  time  that  it  ever  was  looked  upon,  and  lived 
the  first  human  life  that  ever  was  lived.  This  co-inherence 
and  co- working  of  the  two  factors,  of  the  Old  and  the 
New,  of  the  Conservatism  and  the  Progress,  is  the  very 
essence  of  Unman  History.  It  is  difficult,  we  are  aware, 
to  seize  and  hold  both  conceptions  at  one  and  the  same 
time,  as  the  constant  debate  between  the  man  of  Conserva¬ 
tism  and  the  man  of  Progress  shows.  It  is  easv  and  na- 
tural  to  separate  what  G-od  has  joined  together,  and  to 
make  choice  of  the  one  or  of  the  other  characteristic,  as 
the  key  to  all  History  and  the  foundation  of  all  practical 
life  and  action.  It  is  simpler  to  say  that  History  is  per¬ 
manent  without  progress,  or  else  that  it  is  progressive 
without  permanence,  than  to  say  that  it  is  a  true  develop¬ 
ment  and  therefore  both  permanent  and  progressive.  The 
extremists  upon  both  sides  have  a  much  easier  task  than  the 
one  who  occupies  the  central  position  between  them.  A 
simple  idea  is  much  easier  to  define  and  manage  than  a 
complex  one.  But.  it  is  not  so  fertile,  so  prolific,  or  so 
completelv  true.  If  simplicitv  and  facilitv  of  manage- 
ment  were  all  that  the  philosopher  had  to  care  for,  the 
great  comprehensive  ideas  of  science  would  soon  disap¬ 
pear  ;  for  they  are  neither  uncomplex  nor  facile.  “  The 
simplest  of  governments,”  says  Webster  while  defending 
the  complexity  of  republicanism,  “  is  a  despotism.”  The 
simplest  of  theories  is  the  theory  of  an  extremist. 

We  have  now  given  a  theoretic  answer  to  the  question  : 
What  is  the  abstract  idea  of  History  ?  by  specifying  the 
chief  characteristics  of  a  process  of  evolution  and  point¬ 
ing  out  their  identity  with  those  of  an  historical  process. 
It  is  not  pretended  that  this  analysis  and  comparison  is  a 
complete  one,  and  that  nothing  more  could  be  said  upon 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


145 


the  subject ;  that  it  is  a  perfectly  clear  one,  and  could  not 
be  made  more  lucid.  Yet  no  one  who  has  ever  made  the 
attempt ;  an  attempt  much  more  common  now  than  it 

was  in  the  last  century,  when  a  different  intellectual 

8/  ' 

method  prevailed  ;  to  treat  a  subject  physiologically ,  * 
will  be  hasty  to  complain  of  the  lack  of  thoroughness,  or 
especially  of  plainness.  Let  any  one  peruse  the  tracts 
and  treatises  composed  upon  this  general  subject  of  pro¬ 
gressive  development,  and  observe  their  comparative 
vagueness,  and  he  will  be  convinced  that  it  is,  intrinsi- 
cally,  one  of  the  most  difficult  subjects  to  discuss,  in  the 
whole  philosophical  catalogue.  For  it  implies  the  idea 
of  life  ‘  one  of  the  most  familiar,  and  at  the  same  time 
most  mvsterious  and  baffling  of  all  ideas.  It  necessitates 
a  dynamic  method  of  treating  the  subject  ;  a  method 
which  compels  the  mind,  if  we  may  so  say,  to  a  subter¬ 
ranean  labor  and  examination ;  a  method  therefore  that 
precludes  that  liveliness  of  mental  movement,  that  perfect 
distinctness  of  statement,  and  especially  that  opulence  of 
illustration  and  bright  sparkling  diction  and  style,  which 
are  characteristic  of  a  more  outward  mode  of  investiga¬ 
tion.  To  trace  a  law  of  life  is  a  far  more  difficult  and 
arduous  attempt  for  authorship,  than  to  draw  a  beautiful 
picture.  To  work  the  mind  slowly,  pertinaciously,  and 
thoroughly,  into  a  deep  central  process  of  development, 
running  like  a  magnetic  current  through  ages  of  time, 
winding  here,  thwarted  there,  uprearing  itself  and  coming 
forth  in  reformations  and  revolutions,  and  then  retiring 
down  into  such  depths  of  dormancy  and  slumber  that  its 
reawakening  seems  almost  an  impossibility ;  to  treat 
Human  History  in  this  profound  and  dynamic  manner  is 
far  more  difficult  than  by  the  aid  of  a  versatile  mind  and 

*  The  term  is  employed  in  its  etymological  meaning  ;  to  denote  a 
method  that  proceeds  from  the  intrinsic  nature  of  an  object. 

7 


146 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


a  lively  fancy  to  cause  a  series  of  brilliant  pictures,  of 
dazzling  dissolving  views,  to  pass  with  rapidity  before  the 
mind  of  a  rapid  reader.  But  which  method  is  the  most 
fruitful  and  fertilizing?  Which  is  most  suggestive? 
Which  is  best  adapted  for  the  foundation  of  a  course  of 
study  and  investigation  ?  Which  is  capable  of  an  un¬ 
limited  expansion,  and  influence  upon  the  intellect  of  a 
student?  Grant  that,  in  the  beginning,  both  the  writer 
and  the  reader  feel  the  need  of  further  reflection  and 
still  plainer  statements,  so  that  there  is  a  sort  of  unsatis¬ 
faction  in  both ;  yet  is  not  this  very  unrest  a  thorn  and 
spur  to  still  more  profound  and  clear  intuitions  ?  This  is/ 
one  great  benefit  to  be  derived  from  the  adoption,  and  re¬ 
ception  into  the  mind,  of  an  idea  like  that  of  evolution. 
Its  meaning  is  not  so  entirely  upon  the  surface,  and  so 
level  to  the  most  thoughtless  comprehension,  that  he  who 
runs  may  read  it,  and  exhaust  its  whole  significance  in  a 
twinkling.  There  is  ever  something  in  reserve,  something 
still  to  be  pondered  cvver,  something  still  to  be  more  dis- 
tinctl}T  elucidated  and  stated.  The  idea  is  itself  a  seed 
sown  in  the  mind,  having  an  endless  power  of  germina¬ 
tion  and  fructification.  A  seed  is  not  so  striking  or  so 
sparkling  an  object  as  a  diamond  ;  it  does  not  make  such 
an  instantaneous  impression,  and  it  is  a  thousandfold  more 
full  of  mystery.  But  while  the  gem  merely  flickers  its 
cold  glittering  flashes,  generation  after  generation,  upon 
the  single  brow  of  beauty  or  of  pride,  the  seed  is  repeat¬ 
ing  itself  in  the  harvests  of  a  continent,  in  the  physical 
comfort  and  thereby  the  general  weal  of  a  race.  Easiness 
of  immediate  apprehension,  distinctness  and  vivacity  of 
first  statement,  facility  of  being  managed,  ought  all  to  be 
set  second  to  depth,  comprehensiveness  of  scope,  richness 
and  variety  of  contents,  and  fertility  of  influence,  when 
selecting  an  idea  that  is  to  constitute  the  basis  of  a  de- 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY, 


14T 


partment  of  knowledge,  and  guide  the  investigations  of  a 
student  through  its  whole  long  and  wide  domain.  It  is 
for  this  reason,  and  not  because  a  more  perspicacious  and 
facile  method  could  not  be  selected,  that  we  desire  to  ex¬ 
plain  so  far  as  is  possible,  and  to  recommend,  what  has 
been  termed  the  theory  of  genetic  development,  as  the  one 
which  has  most  affinity  with  the  real  nature  of  History, 
and  which  consequently  is  the  best  organon  or  instrument 
for  its  investigation.  The  great  change  that  has  taken 
place,  within  the  present  century,  in  the  way  of  conceiv¬ 
ing  and  constructing  the  history  of  man,  is  owing  to  the 
adoption  and  use  of  a  method  that  was  foreign  to  the 
mind  and  the  intellectual  tendencies  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  One  only  needs  to  compare  history  like  that  of 
Dr.  Hobertson  with  history  like  that  of  Dr.  Arnold,  or 
history  like  that  of  Gibbon  with  history  like  that  of  Aie- 
buhr,  to  see  that  from  some  cause  or  other  a  great  change 
has  come  over  the  department.  There  is  no  improve¬ 
ment  in  respect  to  style.  For  who  has  excelled  the  clean 
purity  of  Robertson’s  diction,  the  elegant  simplicity  of 
Hume’s  narrative,  the  harmonious  yet  energetic  pomp  of 
Gibbon’s  description  ?  Perhaps  there  is,  in  general,  a 
falling  off  in  respect  to  formal  properties.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  there  not  a  vast  improvement  in  all  the 
material  properties  of  historical  composition  ?  Is  not  the 
point  from  which  men  and  events  are  now  contemplated, 
far  more  central  and  commanding?  Is  not  much  more 
made  of  dominant  ideas,  general  tendencies,  prominent 
individualities,  in  short  of  the  germs  and  dynamic  forces 
of  Human  History,  than  was  made  during  the  last  cen¬ 
tury?  Are  not  the  lessons  of  this  science  more  impres¬ 
sive  and  solemn  now,  than  they  were  as  taught  in  1750? 
Is  not  the  department  itself  exerting  an  influence  upon 
other  departments  far  more  modifying  and  transforming 


148 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


than  formerly  ?  In  short,  if  History  may  have  lost  some¬ 
thing  of  that  elegance  and  transparency  which  character¬ 
izes  a  product  of  art,  has  it  not  gained  far  more  of  that 
vitality,  and  power  of  influential  impression,  which  be¬ 
longs  to  a  product  of  nature  ?  The  cause  of  this  change, 
in  the  spirit  and  influence  of  the  department,  is  traceable 
directly  to  a  growing  disposition  to  regard  the  history  of 
Man,  as  well  as  that  of  Hat u re,  as  an  evolving  process, 
and  consequently  as  subject  to  a  law  of  life  and  growth. 
Indeed  it  is  noticeable,  that  this  chancre  has  come  in  con- 
temporaneously  with  a  corresponding  change  in  the 
method  of  contemplating  Nature  itself.  As  Natural 
Science  has  become  more  dynamic,  so  has  Historv.  The 
naturalist  of  the  present  day  is  not  willing  to  regard  life 
as  the  result  of  organization,  and  then  to  explain  organi¬ 
zation  into  a  very  curious  and  recondite  arrangement  of 
atomic  matter.  Mysterious  as  the  principle  itself  may  be, 
the  investigator  now  prefers  to  assume  a  vital  principle 
as  the  origin  and  cause  of  all  organization,  and  of  all 
those  phenomena  which  some  would  explain  by  the  me¬ 
chanical  view  and  theory  of  nature.*  For  though  he 
starts  with  a  mystery  which  probably  he  can  never  clear 
up,  yet  he  thereby  introduces  a  clearness,  a  consistency,  a 
naturalness  and  vitality,  into  all  the  facts  and  phenomena 
of  his  science,  which  are  never  attained  bv  the  material- 

'  c / 

izino;  naturalists.  His  intellectual  self-denial  in  the  besdn- 
ning,  is  rewarded  richly  in  the  end.  In  like  manner,  the 
historian,  by  taking  upon  himself  the  severer  task  of  re¬ 
garding  Human  History  as  a  process  of  intellectual  and 

*  This  was  written  in  1854,  previous  to  the  recent  temporary  revi¬ 
val  of  the  mechanical  physics.  At  that  date,  the  tendency  of  natu¬ 
ral  science  was  wholly  in  the  direction  of  the  physics  of  Kepler,  New¬ 
ton,  Linnaeus,  Kant,  Cuvier,  Blumenbach,  John  Hunter,  Owen,  and 
Agassiz. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


149 


moral  evolution,  and  of  penetrating  into  its  intricate 
organic  connections,  is  in  the  end  rewarded  for  his  dispo¬ 
sition  to  be  thorough  and  profound,  by  finding  the  sub¬ 
ject  of  his  investigations  far  more  prolific  and  impressive 
than  it  ever  was  before.  lie  is  also  rewarded  by  finding 
that  this  philosophic  method,  exacting  as  it  is,  in  the 
beginning,  upon  the  closest  reflection  and  strictest  disci¬ 
pline  of  the  mind,  in  the  end  throws  a  clear  light  upon 
those  deeper  and  darker  portions  of  History,  upon  which 
not  a  ray  of  light  is  cast  by  a  more  superficial  and  easy 
mode  of  examination. 

Inasmuch  as  the  department  of  Church  History  has  felt 
the  influence  of  the  dynamic  method  more  thoroughly 
than  other  portions  of  the  history  of  man  have  as  yet,  and 
the  Church  Historian  been  the  most  successful  in  applying 
the  doctrine  of  development  to  historical  materials,  we 
shall,  in  the  remainder  of  this  section,  draw  our  illustra¬ 
tions  from  this  branch  of  the  general  subject. 

One  of  the  most  valuable  results  of  the  application  of 
the  idea  of  evolution  is  seen  in  that  part  of  Ecclesiastical 
History  which  is  denominated  the  History  of  Doctrine. 
This  may  be  said  to  have  come  into  existence  since  the 
adoption  of  the  physiological  method.  It  is  indeed  true 
that  the  more  thoughtful  of  the  ecclesiastical  historians  of 
the  eighteenth  centurv,  such  as  Mosheim  and  the  elder 
Planck,  recognize  the  influence  of  particular  doctrines 
upon  that  course  of  external  events  to  which  they  gave  most 
attention  ;  but  they  usually  connect  the  doctrine,  or  the 
truth,  with  some  individual  of  strong  or  passionate  char¬ 
acter,  from  whom,  more  than  from  the  truth  or  doctrine, 
the  influence  upon  men  and  things  proceeds.  Hence  in 
treating  of  the  Reformation,  for  example,  a  disproportion¬ 
ate  weight  is  attached  to  the  personal  religious  force  and 
wants  of  a  single  individual  like  Luther,  or  to  the  personal 


150 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


intellectual  culture  and  aspirations  of  an  Erasmus  ;  to  the 
undervaluation  of  that  great  scripture  doctrine  of  justifi¬ 
cation  by  faith,  which,  together  with  the  general  religious 
craving  of  the  age  in  which  a  Luther  shared  so  strongly 
and  an  Erasmus  so  feebly,  was  the  true  historic  ground  of 
the  movement,  the  real  central  historic  force.*  It  is  not 
enough  to  trace  the  processes  of  history  to  merely  individ¬ 
ual  influence.  This  pragmatic  method,  as  it  has  been 
termed,  must  rest  upon  that  genetic  one  of  which  we  are 
speaking;  for  the  individual  is  rooted  in  the  general,  and 
all  this  influence  of  historical  characters  has  a  deeper 
ground  in  historic  ideas,  truths,  and  doctrines.  But  this 
was  not  seen  and  acted  upon,  until  the  mind  of  the  his¬ 
torian  was  led  down  to  the  doctrines  themselves,  as  the 
ultimate  sources  and  causes.  The  step  taken  by  writers 
like  Mosheitn,  Walch,  and  Planck,  in  sacred  history,  and 
Hume,  .Robertson,  and  Gibbon,  in  secular,  was  one  in  ad¬ 
vance,  but  was  not  the  ultimate  one.  It  "was  something 
valuable,  to  connect  the  external  series  of  events  and  phe 
nomena  with  the  characters,  opinions,  and  acts  of  promi¬ 
nent  individuals ,  but  it  was  something  invaluable,  because 
indispensable  to  a  truly  philosophic  history,  to  connect 
events,  phenomena,  prominent  individuals  themselves,  to¬ 
gether  with  the  ages  and  great  tendencies  which  they  re¬ 
presented,  with  the  great  standing  truths  of  reason  and 
revelation,  and  the  plans  and  purposes  of  that  Supreme 
Beilin  who  is  the  author  and  revealer  of  all. 

o 

This  step  was  taken,  when  the  historian  began  to  con¬ 
ceive  and  construct  the  facts  of  History  on  the  method  of 
a  genetic  development.  He  then  began,  as  this  term  de¬ 
notes,  to  trace  the  genesis  of  the  process;  to  seize  it  in  its 
very  deepest  source  and  lowest  place  of  origin.  This 


*  See  Baur,  Lehrbuch  der  Dogmengeschichte,  S.  38. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY, 


151 


necessarily  compelled  him  to  go  beyond  not  merely  the 
external  events  themselves,  but  also  their  connection  with 
leading  individuals,  down  to  the  first  springs  of  History  in 
the  plans  and  purposes  of  God,  and,  in  Church  History 
especially,  to  the  truths  and  doctrines  which  God  has  re¬ 
vealed  in  his  written  word,  as  the  germ  and  measure  of 
all  true  development.  For  it  is  plain  that,  so  long  as  the 
historian  confined  himself  to  the  external  occurrences,  and 
their  comparatively  superficial  relation  to  individual  men, 
he  was  still  at  a  great  distance  from  the  real  causes  and 
forces  of  History  ;  from  the  absolute  centre  and  origin  of 
its  processes.  Notwithstanding  all  his  pretensions  to  a 
philosophic  treatment  of  the  subject,  he  was  still  at  work 
in  an  upper  stratum,  and  busied  with  secondary  agencies. 
He  could  reach  the  ultimate  foundation  of  the  whole  his¬ 
toric  superstructure,  only  by  sinking  a  deeper  shaft,  and 
getting  below  events,  and  individual  actions,  to  the  revealed 
ideas  and  designs  of  God.  For  here  is  the  origin,  and  this 
is  the  aenesis.  There  is  no  source  more  ultimate  than 

t/ 

this.  The  historian  who  starts  from  this  point,  starts  from 
the  final  centre. 

We  cannot,  perhaps,  more  appropriately  conclude  this 
enunciation  of  the  abstract  idea  of  evolution,  than  by 
directing  attention,  for  a  moment,  to  that  Church  Historian 
who  has  employed  it  more  persistently,  and  successfully, 
than  any  other  investigator,  secular  or  ecclesiastical.  The 
Church  History  of  Neander  is  an  embodiment  of  the  idea 
of  development.  It  is  organized  throughout  bv  this  sin¬ 
gle  thought.  And  the  organization  is  most  thorough.  It 
pervades  each  historic  section  ;  the  external  history,  the 
history  of  polity,  of  worship,  of  morality,  of  doctrine. 
Each  of  these  sections  exhibits  an  expanding  process  of 
evolution,  either  upward  or  downward.  Each  of  these  is 
reciprocally  related  to  all  the  others,  so  that  the  whole, 


152 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


eventually,  are  lightly  but  firmly  bound  together  into  a 
greater  organism.  We  do  not  assert  that  the  idea  of  the 
Christian  Religion,  as  Neander  conceives  it  in  ins  own 
mind,  is  so  exactly  conformed  to  the  New  Testament  rep¬ 
resentation,  that  the  constructing  principle  of  his  history 
is  entirely  free  from  defective  qualities.  This  would  be 
saying  more  than  can  be  of  any  uninspired  mind.  The 
most  reverent  admirer  of  this  devout  historian  must 
acknowledge  that  his  construction  of  Church  History  is 
affected  by  subjective  elements,  that  his  apprehension  of 
Christianity  is  sometimes  unfavorably  modified  by  the  age 
and  country  in  which  he  lived,  and  especially  b}7  the  type 
of  culture  into  which  he  was  born  and  bred.  But  all  this 
can  be  said,  and  should  be  as  we  believe,  without  denying 
the  substantial  correctness  of  the  idea  which  impelled  and 
guided  his  mind  in  the  composition  of  his  work,  or  im¬ 
puting  to  him  any  more  material  errors  than  the  scientific 
mind  is  always  Liable  to. 

Without,  therefore,  entering  upon  any  detailed  criticism 
of  Neander’s  conception  of  Christianity,  which  would  in¬ 
volve  a  criticism  of  the  whole  work,  we  wish  merely  to 
allude  to  the  remarkable  perseverance,  and  tenacity,  with 
which  it  is  employed  in  the  detection,  analysis,  and  syn¬ 
thesis  of  the  historic  processes  themselves.  That  mono¬ 
tony,  which  is  complained  of  by  a  class  of  critics  whose 
aesthetic  feeling  is  stronger  than  their  philosophic,  is  the 
monotony  of  organization.  The  types  of  organic  life  are 
necessarily  few.  Nature  herself  is  but  slightly  varied 
and  variegated  within  this  sphere.  It  is  only  in  the  cloth¬ 
ing  of  her  few  archetypal  forms,  that  she  exhibits  the 
pomp,  and  prodigality,  of  her  luxuriance.  It  is  true  that 
Neander’s  method  is  uniform.  We  know  beforehand  what 
the  treatment  of  each  section  will  be.  We  know  that  each 
subject  will  be  handled  under  the  same  fixed  number  of 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTOKY. 


153 


topics  and  categories ;  that  each  mass  of  material,  like 
iron  in  a  rolling  mill,  will  be  run  through,  the  same  limn- 
her  and  sequence  of  grooves.  But  this  very  rigor  in  the 
use  of  one  idea,  and  the  prosecution  of  one  plan,  imparts, 
to  the  product  resulting  from  it,  an  interest  for  the  think¬ 
ing  mind,  far  higher  than  any  merely  aesthetic  interest 
can  ever  be,  and  what  is  still  more,  renders  it  a  far  more 
instructive  and  influential  work  for  the  intellect  of  a 
student,  than  can  be  originated  on  the  other  method  of 
historical  composition.  It  is  for  this  reason,  therefore, 
that  while  the  history  of  Neander  has  less  interest  for  him 
who  is  attracted  chiefly  by  the  secular  aspects  of  Christi¬ 
anity,  it  has  all  the  more  for  him  who  knows  that  its 
spiritual  aspects  are  its  distinguishing  and  essential  ones. 
He  who  sees  in  Christianity  merely  or  mainly  a  religion 
or  an  institute  that  has  exerted  a  most  favorable  influence 
upon  literature,  science,  and  art ;  upon  civilization,  govern¬ 
ment,  and  the  physical  improvement  of  mankind  ;  will  be 
dissatisfied  with  this  author’s  account  of  it.  For  Neander 
was  but  little,  too  little,  interested  in  these  civilizing,  and 
intellectual,  influences.  But  he  who  sees  in  Christianity, 
first  of  all  and  last  of  all,  a  moral  and  spiritual  power, 
destined  by  its  Divine  Author  to  regenerate  the  inmost 
heart  of  humanity,  and  hence  intended  to  affect  primarily 
the  eternal  interests  of  mankind,  will  find  this  stern 
aesthetic  indifference,  and  naked  but  lofty  spiritualism  of 
the  Historian,  all  the  more  imposing  and  impressive.  For 
he  passes  through  the  pomps  and  splendors  that  thicken 
and  trail  along  the  march  of  Christianity,  as  St.  Paul  did 
through  the  temples  and  sculptures  of  Athens,  or  the  por¬ 
ticos  and  triumphal  arches  of  Pome ;  with  an  eye  too  in¬ 
tently  fixed  upon  more  unutterable  realities  and  more 
awful  splendors,  to  be  attracted,  much  less  dazzled,  by 
things  seen  and  temporal.  To  one  who  seeks  to  know 
7* 


154 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


Christianity  in  its  own  living  moral  nature,  with  few  or 
none  of  its  secular  adjuncts,  the  close  and  powerful  method 
of  Neander  is  exceedingly  welcome,  and  exceedingly  sug¬ 
gestive  and  fertile.  And  while  the  student  of  Church 
History  is  never  to  be  a  servile  recipient  of  all  the  views 
of  any  mind,  however  learned  or  contemplative,  we  think 
it  may  safely  be  said,  that,  from  the  existing  literature  in 
this  department,  no  single  work  can  be  selected  which  so 
well  deserves  as  does  this,  to  be  made  both  a  resort,  and  a 
point  of  departure,  for  his  mind.  While  examining  and 
pondering  its  contents,  the  inquirer  will  find  himself,  all 
along,  in  the  very  heart  of  Christianity,  because  the  history 
is  constructed  out  of  the  very  idea  of  Christianity  itself; 
that  is,  in  its  spirit  and  by  its  light. 


§  2.  Evolution  distinguished  from  Creation,  and  from 

Improvement. 

In  the  previous  section,  we  have  confined  ourselves  to 
an  analysis  of  the  abstract  idea  of  evolution,  in  order  to 
reach  the  abstract  nature  of  History.  As  a  consequence, 
we  have  brought  into  view  only  the  universal  characteris¬ 
tics  of  an  expanding  process,  paying  no  regard  to  those 
particular  qualities  which  are  discovered,  as  soon  as  we 
begin  to  examine  the  several  species  of  history  that  fall 
under  the  generic  conception.  For  here,  as  every wdiere, 
the  concrete  application  of  a  metaphysical  idea  is  of  equal 
importance  with  its  abstract  enunciation.  An  a  priori 
statement  requires  to  be  completed  by  an  a  posteriori  ver¬ 
ification,  in  order  to  obtain  scientific  value  and  currency. 
An  a  priori  theory  is  worthless  wdienever  the  thought,  in 
the  mind,  is  not  found  to  correspond  with  the  thing,  in 
nature.  In  this  instance  the  theory  is  no  Secopia,  no 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


155 


seeing  through  and  seeing  around,  but  remains  what  it 
was  in  die  start,  an  hypothesis  or  conjecture.  The  New¬ 
tonian  theory  of  gravitation,  in  the  moment  of  its  first 
conception  in  the  mind  of  the  thinker,  was  purely  hypo¬ 
thetical,  and  had  not  the  whole  subsequent  course  of  as¬ 
tronomical  science  been  a  verification  of  it  would  be  an 
hypothesis  still,  only  an  exploded  one.  The  difference  be¬ 
tween  the  alchemist’s  theory  of  occult  qualities,  and  that 
of  a  true  natural  philosophy,  does  not  lie  in  the  employ¬ 
ment  of  a  different  mode  of  formation  in  one  instance 
from  that  used  in  the  other,  but  in  the  fact  that  the  first 
does  not  stand  the  tests  of  observation  and  application, 
while  the  last  does.  Both  are  formed  on  the  a  priori 
method,  but  the  a  posteriori  verification  destroys  in  one 
case,  and  confirms  in  the  other.* 

The  principal  reason  why  the  department  of  metaphys¬ 
ics  is  in  such  ill  repute  with  the  popular  mind,  on  the 
ground  of  both  real  and  imaginary  deficiencies,  lies  in  the 
fact  that  it  has  not  in  all  instances  been  thoroughly  treated. 
The  philosopher  has  been  content  with  conceptions  in  their 
abstract  and  universal  forms.  He  has  been  averse  to  take 
the  second  step,  and  do  the  last  work;  which  is,  after 
the  idea  has  been  sufficiently  enucleated  by  logical  analy¬ 
sis,  to  bring  it  forth  from  this  speculative  shape,  and  ex¬ 
hibit  as  a  concrete  and  working  truth,  or,  in  the  phrase  of 
Bacon,  u  to  temper  the  rigor  of  the  abstraction  by  the  soft¬ 
ening  explanation.”  This  is  in  reality  more  difficult  to 
accomplish,  than  to  merely  follow  the  laws  of  logical 
thinking,  without  any  regard  to  the  refractions,  and  re¬ 
flections,  and  modifications,  of  actual  processes.  To  fol¬ 
low  a  pure  logical  sequence  is  no  greater  task  for  a  logical 
mind,  than  it  is  for  a  vigorous  body  to  walk  up  a  flight  of 


*  See  Whewell’s  History  of  Inductive  Sciences,  B.  V.,  C,  iv. 


156 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

stairs.  The  steps  themselves,  in  both  instances,  perform 
most  of  the  labor.  The  walker  needs  only  to  lift  up  his 
limbs  and  put  them  down,  to  be  lifted  upward,  fifty  or  a 
hundred  feet,  into  space,  and  the  logician  needs  merely  * 
to  follow  the  connections  of  an  idea,  to  be  carried  through 
a  very  wide  and  long  range  of  speculation.  Hence  the 
facilitv  with  which  a  mere  logician  analyzes  ideas  into 

xJ  O  xJ 

their  constituent  elements,  and  constructs  systems  out  of 
them.  It  is  more  difficult,  as  we  have  remarked,  to  be 
entirely  thorough,  and  follow  an  idea  out  into  the  sphere 
of  historical  reality,  and  thus  know  it  in  the  concrete. 
Had  this  been  done  more  often  by  the  metaphysical  phi¬ 
losopher,  he  would  have  subjected  truth  to  a  more  exhaus¬ 
tive  examination,  that  would  have  precluded  those  miscon¬ 
ceptions,  which  so  often  come  in  subsequently  to  an  accu¬ 
rate  a  priori  analysis  and  vitiate  it. 

The  doctrine  of  evolution,  in  particular,  has  undergone 
deterioration,  and  lost  scientific  properties,  by  being  con¬ 
templated  exclusively  in  its  abstract  form.  Neglecting  to 
test  and  clarify  it  by  observation,  some  theorists  in  Physics 
come  to  employ  the  idea  in  a  sense  that  is  contrary  to  the 
results  of  scientific  analysis  itself,  as  well  as  contradicted 
by  the  whole  course  of  nature.  Fastening  their  gaze  upon 
the  continuity  of  the  process,  they  lose  sight  of  its  ori¬ 
gin,  and  slide  into  the  notion  of  an  eternal  potentiality. 
This  necessitates  the  second  absurd  notion,  of  potentiality 
within  potentiality,  or  evolution  of  heterogeneous  germs 
out  of  homogeneous  ones.  As,  upon  this  theory,  there  is 
but  one  process  of  evolution  from  one  infinite  and  eternal 
germ,  all  the  varieties  of  being  must  be  accounted  for  by 
evolution.  Mind  must  evolve  from  matter,  life  from  the 
lifeless,  the  organic  from  the  inorganic,  the  animal  from 
the  vegetable,  the  rational  from  the  animal,  the  spiritual  . 
from  the  carnal,  the  holy  from  the  sinful.  The  process  of 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


157 


evolution  lias  now  lost  its  primitive  logical  simplicity  and 
unity,  and  becomes  a  complex  and  fanciful  scheme  of 
emanations.  The  germ  is  no  longer  a  transparent  and 
pure  creation  from  nothing,  having  its  own  qualities  and 
no  others,  but  an  obscure  and  mixed  product  from  ante¬ 
cedent  germs,  and  these  again  from  their  antecedents,  and 
so  backward  endlessly,  with  ever  increasing  vagueness 
and  mixture,  into  the  abyss  of  chaotic  being.  Now  set- 
ting  aside  the  valid  objections  that  spring  out  of  Ethics 
and  Religion,*  it  is  plain  that  an  actual  questioning  of 
Nature  for  the  facts  in  the  case  would  have  preserved 
these  theorists  from  this  corruption  of  the  true  idea  of  an 
evolution,  and  kept  them  upon  the  truly  scientific  posi¬ 
tion.  Nature  never  exhibits  the  evolution  of  one  specific 
germ  from  another,  and  the  simple  observation  and 
remembrance  of  this  matter  of  fact  would  have  led  the 
wandering  theorist  to  retrace  his  steps.  A  verification  of 
the  abstract  conception  itself,  by  an  actual  reference  to 
the  organic  processes  actually  going  on  in  nature  before 
his  eves,  would  have  reminded  him  of  the  scientific  truth, 
that  mere  evolution  cannot  account  for  the  origin  of  any 
new  thing;  that  a  germ  can  only  protrude  its  own  latency, 

*  That  the  ancient  oriental  systems  of  emanation,  and  their  modern 
counterparts  the  pantheistic  systems,  are  destructive  of  the  first  princi¬ 
ples  and  distinctions  of  Ethics  and  Religion,  is  notorious.  But  that 
these  same  schemes  are  ruinous  to  true  Science,  is  not  so  often  consid¬ 
ered.  Let  any  one,  however,  examine  the  stupendous  system  of  Gnos¬ 
ticism,  that  sprung  up  in  the  2d  and  od  centuries,  and  he  will  be  con¬ 
vinced  that  such  a  conglomerate  is  incompatible  with  logical  coherence 
and  scientific  self-consistence.  Starting  from  a  false  fundamental  prin¬ 
ciple.  and  substituting  emanation  for  creation,  every  new  step  must  be 
an  attempt  at  adjustment.  This  introduces  still  more  troublesome  and 
unmanageable  matter,  which,  again,  calls  for  new  attempts  at  arrange¬ 
ment,  until  an  amorphous  mass  of  speculation  is  aggregated  that  is 
totally  destitute  of  the  homogeneity,  concinnity,  clearness,  and  nicety 
of  Science. 


158 


THE  IDEA.  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


and  cannot  inlay  a  foreign  one.  The  very  significant  mat¬ 
ter  of  fact,  that  one  species  never  expands  into  another, 
would  have  reminded  him  of  the  truth,  which  is  also 
reached  by  the  “  high  priori  road  ”  of  rigorous  analysis, 
that  though  a  process  of  evolution  can  be  accounted  for 
out  of  the  latent  potentiality  at  its  base,  this  latter  can  be 
accounted  for  only  by  recurring  to  the  creative  power 
of  God.  Evolution  cannot  originate  its  own  germ.  The 
careful  recognition  of  the  fact,  that  in  rerum  natura 
the  development  of  a  vegetable  seed,  even  if  carried  on 
through  all  the  aeons  upon  aeons  of  the  Gnostic  scheme 
or  the  cycles  upon  cycles  of  the  geological  system,  never 
transmutes  the  homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous,  never 
converts  the  corn  of  wheat  into  the  egg  of  animal  life, 
would  recall  the  attention  of  the  speculatist  to  the  self- 
evident  proposition  that  nothing  can  come  forth  that  has 
never  been  put  in.  The  seen  and  acknowledged  failure 
to  discover  any  instance  in  which  the  passage  from  the 
animal  to  the  rational  soul,  from  the  brute  to  the  man,  has 
been  effected  by  the  pure  evolution  of  the  former,  would 
correct  the  vicious  reasoning  of  the  theorizer,  and  restore 
it  to  the  strictly  scientific  and  necessary  statement,  that  a 
latency  of  an  animal  kind  cannot  by  mere  expansion  be 
converted  into  one  entirely  heterogeneous,  so  as  to  become 
the  basis  of  a  moral  and  spiritual,  as  distinguished  from  an 
animal  historv.* 

%j 

*  The  definition  of  Evolution  by  Herbert  Spencer,  as  “the  develop¬ 
ment  of  the  homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous,”  is  exactly  wrong. 
It  is  directly  contrary  to  the  received  definition.  An  evolution,  in  the 
historical  physics,  wholly  excludes  the  heterogeneous.  It  is  a  process 
that  is  entirely  pure,  and  unmixed  with  foreign  elements.  The  evolu¬ 
tion  of  a  mustard  seed,  for  example,  is  simply  and  only  vegetable. 
Should  anything  mineral  or  animal,  anything  heterogeneous,  appear  in 
the  process,  the  evolution  would  by  this  very  fact  be  proved  to  be 
spurious.  This  definition,  moreover,  begs  the  question  in  dispute  : 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


159 


Tliis  same  vitiation  of  true  metaphysics,  and  misappre¬ 
hension  of  an  abstract  conception,  is  seen  also  within  the 
sphere  of  mind,  and  of  human  history.  Theorizers  here, 
forgetting  the  fact  of  free  will,  confound  the  idea  of 
development  with  that  of  improvement.  There  is  noth¬ 
ing  in  the  logical  conception  of  an  evolving  process  that 
warrants  their  assertion,  that  all  movement  in  the  history 
of  a  self-determining  moral  agent  must  of  necessity  be  nor¬ 
mal  and  upward.  All  that  is  required  by  the  a  priori 
definition  is,  that  the  process  shall  be  an  expanding  one, 
but  of  what  species^  or  from  what  basis ,  is  still  undeter¬ 
mined.  Forgetting  the  fact  of  free  will,  and  the  possibil¬ 
ity  of  defection  from  law  associated  with  it  by  the  Creator, 
they  deal  with  man  as  they  do  with  material  nature,  and 
suppose  that  to  say  he  is  passing  through  a  process  of 
development  necessarily  implies  that  he  is  advancing,  like 
“  the  splendor  of  the  grass  and  the  glory  of  the  fiower,” 
from  one  degree  of  excellence  to  another  A 

the  question  namely,  whether  the  homogeneous  ever  does  or  can  devel¬ 
op  into  the  heterogeneous.  To  begin  with  defining  evolution  to  be  the 
very  process  of  whose  reality  the  opponent  demands  proof,  is  more  art¬ 
ful  than  scientific. 

*“Evil,”  says  Emerson  (Essay  on  Swedenborg),  “is  good  in  the 
making.  That  pure  malignity  can  exist,  is  the  extreme  proposition  of 
unbelief.  It  is  not  to  be  entertained  by  a  rational  agent ;  it  is  atheism ; 
it  is  the  last  profanation.  The  divine  effort  is  never  relaxed ;  the  car¬ 
rion  in  the  sun  will  convert  itself  to  grass  and  flowers ;  and  the  man, 
though  in  brothels,  or  jails,  or  on  gibbets,  is  on  the  way  to  all  that  is 
good  and  true.”  Extremes  meet.  The  denial  of  the  doctrine  of  human 
apostasy,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  dishonorable  to  man,  conducts  to  the 
denial  of  man’s  distinguishing  and  highest  endowment,  viz. :  his  free 
will,  and  results  in  degrading  human  nature  to  the  level  of  “  carrion,” 
and  “  flowers.”  It  is  often  asked,  why  God  permitted  sin  ?  Perhaps  it 
was  to  prove  conclusively  that  man  is  a  self-determining  spirit.  Cer¬ 
tain  it  is,  that  wherever  the  fact  of  the  free  and  guilty  fall  of  man  is 
acknowledged,  materializing  views  of  man's  nature  do  not  prevail, 
while  the  denial  of  the  reality  of  moral  evil  is  a  characteristic  of 
materialism  of  every  grade  and  school. 


160 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

Here  again,  the  simple  observation  of  the  fact  staring 
every  inquirer  in  the  face,  of  an  abuse  of  freedom,  and  a 
consequent  false  evolution  of  human  nature,  would  have 
impressed  the  lesson  which  a  rigorous  analysis  also 
teaches,  viz.  :  that  an  evolving  process  may  be  downwards, 
as  well  as  upwards  ;  one  of  decline  and  death,  as  wrnll  as 
of  rise  and  bloom.  The  stubborn  fact  of  an  illegitimate 
development  going  on  in  the  very  heart  of  humanity,  and 
covering  the  whole  period  of  human  history,  compels  the 
theorizer  to  notice  an  aspect  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution 
that  he  had  lost  sight  of.  The  application  of  the  abstract 
idea  of  evolution  to  what  he  finds  to  be  a  stem  matter  of 
fact,  preserves  its  scientific  purity  and  precision  by  pre¬ 
venting  him  from  surreptitiously  throwing  out  its  univer- 
sality  and  impartiality,  whereby  it  is  capable  of  an  appli¬ 
cation  to  any  process,  legitimate  or  illegitimate,  so  it  be 
an  organic  sequence,  and  surreptitiously  narrowing  it 
down  to  a  particular  species  of  process,  viz. :  a  normal  one. 
For  there  is  no  more  reason  for  regarding  evolution  as 
synonymous  with  improvement  alone,  than  with  de¬ 
generacy  alone.  Scientific  definitions  are  wide  and  uni¬ 
versal.  Ho  particular  truth  is  told,  or  intended  to  be, 
when  it  is  asserted  that  there  is  a  process  of  development 
going  on  in  the  human  world.  This  is  granted  upon  all 
sides.  On  coming  within  the  sphere  of  free  agency,  it  is 
necessary,  in  order  to  any  definite  and  valuable  statement, 
to  determine  by  actual  observation  what  it  is  that  is  being 
developed  ;  whether  a  primitive  germ  originated  by  the 
Creator,  or  a  secondary  one  originated  by  the  creature,  to 
either  of  which  the  abstract  conception  of  evolution  is 
alike  applicable. 

Hence,  on  coming  down  into  the  sphere  of  the  concrete, 
we  are  obliged  to  notice  the  varieties  of  evolution  In 
endeavoring  to  apply  the  idea  whose  nature  we  have 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


161 


analyzed,  to  the  actual  career  of  man  on  the  globe,  we 
must  take  into  account  the  peculiarity  of  this  career.  In 
specifying  this,  we  discover  the  distinctive  nature  of 
Secular  History,  and  give  its  definition. 

The  ordinary  and  common  history  of  mankind,  as  the 
observer  in  every  age  sees  it  going  on  before  his  eyes, 
differs  from  all  other  histories  of  which  he  knows  any¬ 
thing,  by  being  contrary  to  the  primary  law  of  creation. 
All  other  existences,  so  far  as  he  knows,  are  conformed  to 
the  law  of  their  being,  and  their  evolution  is,  consequently, 
legitimate  and  normal.  Throughout  all  material  nature, 
there  is  no  liberty  to  the  contrary,  and  consequently  there 
is  an  inevitable  obedience  to  the  creative  idea,  and  an  un¬ 
varying  expansion  of  the  original  germ.  The  few  mon¬ 
sters,  lusus  nature e  as  we  call  them,  are  very  few,  and  do 
not  affect  the  species  to  which  they  belong.  A  mal-formed 
crystal  is  an  isolated  thing,  and  its  formation  has  no  effect 
upon  the  law  and  process  of  crystallization.  A  body  with 
two  heads  is  entirely  anomalous  and  uncommon,  and  does 
not  in  the  least  modify  the  operation  of  the  general  law 
of  production.  Material  nature  proceeds  undeviatingly, 
because  within  this  sphere  there  is  no  possibility  of  self- 
will.  Evolution  here  is  both  normal  and  uniform. 
Hence,  the  moralist  and  theologian  point  to  the  perfect 
unfolding  of  the  natural  world,  as  an  example  to  be  imi¬ 
tated  by  the  voluntary  spirit  of  man.  The  highest  au¬ 
thority  has  set  the  lilies  of  the  held  before  us,  for  our 
deliberate  imitation  ;  and  the  poet,  in  his  distich,  has 
briefly  repeated  the  same  truth :  u  Seekest  thou  the 
highest,  and  the  greatest  ?  the  plants  can  teach  it  to 
thee.  What  they  are  involuntarily,  that  be  thou  volun¬ 
tarily.”  * 

And  if  we  pass  from  material  nature  into  the  realm  of 

*  Schiller,  Das  Hochste. 


162 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

spiritual  existence,  we  find  that,  with  the  exception  of 
man  and  a  portion  of  the  angelic  hosts,  all  voluntary 
beings  are  in  allegiance  to  law,  and  their  development  is 
legitimate  and  normal.  For  that  catastrophe  and  fall  in 
heaven  was  scarcely  a  speck  upon  the  infinite  azure  of 
eternity.  The  idea  of  race  does  not  apply  to  the  angel  as 
it  does  to  the  man.  We  speak  of  the  angelic  host,  but 
never  of  the  angelic  race.*  Hence  the  apostasy  of  the 
Son  of  the  Morning  and  his  followers,  like  the  mal-forma- 
tion  of  a  crystal  in  the  material  world,  was  an  isolated  oc¬ 
currence,  whose  effects  did  not  extend  beyond  itself. 
Each  angelic  will  fell  for,  and  by,  itself.  Hence  the  gen¬ 
eral  allegiance  of  the  hierarchies  continued,  and  con¬ 
tinues, f  so  that  we  may  say,  notwithstanding  this  instance 
of  deviation  from  the  Divine  law,  that  in  the  heavenly 
world,  as  in  the  natural,  the  evolution  and  the  history  are 
legitimate  and  normal. 

Man  then  stands  alone ;  the  only  unloval  race  in  the 
universe ;  the  only  species  of  being  which,  as  a  unity  and 
a  whole,  has  thrown  itself  out  of  the  line  of  its  true  desti¬ 
nation,  and  is  running  a  false  career. 

With  the  possibility  and  necessary  conditions  of  such  a 
catastrophe,  we  have  in  this  discussion  no  concern.  It  is 
sufficient  here  to  postulate  its  occurrence  through  the 
abuse  of  human  freedom,  by  the  permissive  will  and  de¬ 
cree  of  God.  Had,  then,  the  development  of  man  pro- 

*  “Non  enim  sic  sunt  omnes  angeli  de  uno  angelo,  quemadmodum 
omnes  homines  de  uno  homine.” — Anselm,  Cur  Deus  Homo,  ii. ,  21,  22. 

f  Far  the  greater  part  have  kept,  I  see, 

Their  station  ;  heaven,  yet  populous,  retains 
Number  sufficient  to  possess  her  realms, 

Though  wide,  and  this  high  temple  to  frequent 
With  ministeries  due,  and  solemn  rites. 

Paradise  Lost,  vii.,  145-149. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


163 


ceedecl  from  the  primary  germ  and  original  inlay  given  in 
creation,  it  would  have  been  ideal  and  perfect.  All  that 
some  theorists  now  say  respecting  the  actual  history  of 
man  would  then  have  been  exactly  descriptive  of  that  nor¬ 
mal  process.  Human  nature  would  then  have  unfolded 
in  all  the  beauty,  and  perfect  conformity  to  the  creative 
idea,  which  we  have  seen  to  be  characteristic  of  the 
crystal,  or  the  flower.  The  spontaneous  and  the  natural, 
in  human  historv,  would  then  have  been  the  ideal  and  the 
perfect. 

But  we  know,  not  by  an  a  priori  method,  but  as  matter 
of  fact,  that  the  development  of  humanity  did  not  proceed 
from  this  first  and  proper  point  of  departure.  The  crea¬ 
tive  idea,  by  the  Creator’s  permission,  was  not  realized  by 
the  free  agent.  The  law  of  man’s  creation  was  not 
obeved.  In  the  fall  of  Adam,  the  original  and  true  his- 
toric  germ  was  crowded  out  by  a  second  false  one.  The 
first  potential  basis  of  human  history,  which  provided  for 
a  purer  progress  and  a  grander  evolution  than  man  now 
can  conceive  of,  was  displaced  by  a  second  basis,  which 
likewise  provided  for  a  false  evolution,  and  an  awful  his¬ 
tory,  if  not  supernaturally  hindered,  all  along  through  the 
same  endless  duration. 

The  origination  of  moral  evil  by  the  self-will  of  man, 
consequently,  brings  to  view  another  aspect  of  the  idea  of 
evolution,  and  a  different  application  of  the  doctrine  of 
genetic  development.  This  stubborn  fact  compels  the 
speculating  mind  to  acknowledge,  what  it  is  prone  to  lose 
sight  of,  viz.  :  that  so  far  as  the  abstract  definition  is  con¬ 
cerned,  evolution  may  mean  corruption  and  decline,  as 
well  as  improvement  ;  that  the  organic  sequences  of  his¬ 
tory  may  be  those  of  decay  and  death,  as  well  as  those  of 
bloom  and  life.  For  it  displays,  for  his  examination, 
another  kind  of  germ,  besides  that  one  created  by  the 


164 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

Creator,  and  which  He  pronounced  “  good.'5  It  shows 
him  a  very  different  potentiality,  from  that  original  moral 
perfection  with  which  humanity  was  once  endowed.  It 
enables  him  to  understand  something  of  the  meaning  of 
free  will,  and  vet  more,  somethin g  of  the  mvsterv  of  self- 
will.  For  that  misapprehension  of  the  abstract  idea  of 

evolution,  whereby  it  is  contracted  down  from  its  wide 

^  «/ 

universality  of  meaning  and  applicability  to  all  organic 
processes  whatsoever,  and  limited  to  the  single  particular 
process  of  improvement,  arises  from  overlooking  the  func¬ 
tions  and  operations  of  free  agency,  which  play  such  a 
part  in  the  history  of  Man,  and  introduce  such  changes 
and  varieties  into  it.  The  philosopher,  at  this  point,  as  at 
manv  others,  needs  the  instruction  of  the  theologian.  lie 
needs  to  be  reminded  by  his  scientific  co-laborer,  that  the 
moral  power  of  self-determination  is  totally  different  from 
a  physical  force,  and  can  cause  such  alterations  and  catas¬ 
trophes  within  the  moral  world  as  never  appear  in  the 
world  of  material  nature,  and  hence  that  when  he  comes 
into  this  sphere,  he  must  not  be  surprised  if  he  finds 
archetypes  departed  from,  and  glorious  ideals  unrealized. 
Theology  reminds  philosophy  of  the  fact,  that  although 
the  natural  and  secular  man  is  mentally  rational,  he  is  not 
morally  so ;  that  though  the  eternal  truths  of  right  have 
been  inlaid  in  his  reason,  bv  the  act  of  his  Creator,  thev 
have  been  excelled  from  his  will  by  an  act  of  his  own. 
The  theorist,  contemplating  man’s  mental  constitution, 
finds  him  to  be  possessed  of  all  the  truths  of  reason. 
These  truths  are  necessary,  and,  in  their  own  nature,  enti¬ 
tled  to  an  universal  dominion.  Hence  he  hastily  con¬ 
cludes,  that  they  must,  of  themselves,  prevail  in  the  his¬ 
tory  of  any  being  in  whose  very  mental  structure  they  are 
so  thoroughly  inwoven.  The  speculative  maxim,  “  truth 
is  mighty,  and  must  prevail,”  carries  him  to  the  practical 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


165 


conclusion,  that  a  rational  being  must  inevitably  act  out 
his  rationality,  and  be  rational  in  all  respects.  But  the 
theorist  forgets  that  the  realization  of  a  truth,  in  life  and 
conduct,  can  proceed  only  from  the  active  and  emotive 
side  of  man.  The  heart  and  will  are  the  vitalitv  of  the 

%j 

human  soul,  and  hence,  the  proper  seat  of  growth  and 
evolution  within  it.*  We  have  already,  by  a  rigorous 
definition,  evinced  that  a  process  of  evolution  is  an  or¬ 
ganic  and  consequently  a  thoroughly  vital  one.  Of  which¬ 
ever  species  it  be,  be  it  development  in  perfection  or 
development  in  corruption,  be  it  a  living  life  or  a  living 
death,  as  a  connected  and  organic  process,  it  must  go  on 
in  the  faculties  of  feeling  and  will,  or  not  at  all.  Evolu¬ 
tion,  be  it  true  or  false,  is  the  result  of  an  active  princi¬ 
ple.  If,  therefore,  the  truths  of  reason  and  righteousness 
are  not  wrought  into  the  voluntary  part  of  man,  it  matters 
not  how  thoroughly  they  may  have  been  elaborated  by 
the  Creator’s  act,  into  the  stationary  intellectual  part  of 
him.  For  there  can  be  no  flexible  expansion  of  a  truth  of 
reason  or  revelation,  unless  it  has  been  absorbed  and  as¬ 
similated  into  the  moral  and  voluntary  nature.  Be  main- 
ing  in  its  rigid  intellectual  form,  in  the  pure  theoretic 
reason  of  man,  a  doctrine  of  natural  or  of  revealed  reli¬ 
gion  has  no  more  power  of  pliantly  unfolding  into  feeling 
and  conduct,  than  a  stone  has  of  turning  into  vegetable 
matter,  merely  because  it  has  been  caught  and  held  in  the 
fork  of  a  rapidly  growing  tree.  The  error  of  the  theorist, 

*  It  is  a  maxim  of  the  lynx-eyed  Aristotle,  that  “  mere  intellect  moves 
nothing ;  ”  Siavota  8’  avTi)  ovSev  kive'i.  (Ethics,  vi.,  5).  That  radical 
movement  and  transformation  must  proceed  from  the  practical,  in  dis¬ 
tinction  from  the  theoretic,  side  of  human  nature,  is  the  teaching  of 
this  whole  paragraph,  as  well  as  of  others,  in  this  system  of  ethics. 
The  theclogical  doctrine,  that  no  real  moral  change  can  be  brought 
about  in  humanity,  but  by  the  renewal  of  the  will ,  will  suggest  itself  to 
the  reader  in  this  connection. 


166 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


who  argues  from  the  ideal  to  the  actual,  and  affirms  the 
necessary  normal  development  of  human  nature,  merely 
because  it  contains  within  itself  the  rule  and  law  by  which 
it  ought  to  develop ;  this  error  of  regarding  evolution  as 
the  synonymc  of  improvement,  arises  from  overlooking  the 
difference  between  the  legislative  and  the  executive,  the 
constitutional  and  the  voluntary,  the  mental  and  the  moral.* 
A  very  considerable  degree  of  moral  light  may  exist, 
without  the  least  degree  of  moral  life.  The  rise  of  a  re¬ 
spectable  system  of  natural  theology  in  pagan  Greece  and 
Home,  is  no  more  a  proof  of  a  normal,  or  even  an  im¬ 
proving  evolution  of  human  nature  in  that  age  and  clime, 
than  the  clearest  convictions  of  reason,  and  the  most  poig¬ 
nant  reproaches  of  conscience  in  an  individual,  are  proofs 
that  his  inward  moral  life  is  heavenly  and  heavenward. 
Indeed,  it  is  only  a  very  loose  and  inadequate  apprehen¬ 
sion  of  the  idea  of  evolution,  that  can  hud  in  that  wholly 
speculative  movement  of  the  ancient  philosophic  mind, 
which,  moreover,  even  in  this  form,  was  confined  to  a  very 
few  of  the  more  thoughtful  sages,  and  never  exerted  any 
influence  upon  the  individual  and  social  life  of  the  Greek 
and  Homan  populations, — it  is,  we  say,  a  very  meagre  and 
narrow  conception  of  a  very  pregnant  and  fertile  idea 
that  can  find,  in  such  a  restricted  phenomenon,  the  char¬ 
acteristics  of  a  great  diffusive  organic  process,  which 
moulds  human  society  internally,  and  from  the  centre. 
Can  any  candid  mind  say  that  that  “moral  philosophy,” 
which,  as  Bacon  says,  “  was  the  heathen  divinity,”  sus¬ 
tained  the  same  inward  relation  to  heathendom  that  Chris¬ 
tianity  does  to  Christendom  ;  that  the  system  of  Socrates 
was  the  principle  of  moral  life  for  any  portion  of  an- 

*  “  Conscience,”  remarks  Ullmann  ( Sinlessness  of  Jesus,  p.  32),  “is 
not  so  much  productive  as  receptive,  not  so  much  originative  as  ac¬ 
quiescent,  ” 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


167 


tiquity,  as  the  system  of  Christ  has  been  for  the  Church 
in  all  ages?  On  the  contrary,  was  not  the  truth,  as  St. 
Paul  affirms,  held  down  in  unrighteousness,  and  was  not 
the  actual  spontaneous  development  of  the  old  world  as 
contrary  to  the  doctrines  of  natural  as  of  revealed  re¬ 
ligion  ? 

And,  so  far  as  the  individual  examples  of  pagan  virtue 
are  concerned,  we  are  willing  to  leave  the  decision  of  the 
question  to  themselves,  whether  the  natural  religion,  which 
they  apprehended  in  their  reason  and  conscience,  had  so 
passed  into  their  affections  and  will,  and  had  such  a  vital 
control  over  their  heart  and  character,  as  to  constitute  a 
normal  development  of  human  nature  in  their  case. 
Head  Plato,  and  find  as  full  a  confession,  prompted  by  a 
personal  consciousness,  of  the  corruption  and  degeneracy 
of  human  nature,  as  ever  came  from  uninstructed  lips. 
Ask  the  wisest  of  heathen,  if  the  principles  of  reason 
and  righteousness,  which  lay  in  such  clear  outline  before 
his  mind’s  eye,  constituted  the  life  of  his  soul ;  and  hear 
the  answer,  that  however  it  may  have  been  with  him  in 
a  pre-existence  of  which  he  dreamed,  and  however  it 
might  be  with  him  in  a  future  world,  of  which  he  knew 
nothing  with  certainty,  the  existing  inward  life,  the 
present  character,  and  the  actual  on-going  development, 
was  certainly  contrarv  to  the  Beautiful,  the  True,  and  the 
Good. 

The  result,  then,  of  the  investigation  in  this  section,  is 
the  further  distinction  of  the  idea  of  evolution  from  that 
of  improvement ,  and  the  definition  of  Secular  History  as 
an  abnormal  but  organic  process.  We  had  previously 
distinguished  evolution  from  creation,  and  now  this  second 
limitation  brings  us  round  to  an  exhaustive  definition  of  an 
idea  which  is  probably  more  potent  than  any  other,  in 
forming  and  fixing  the  intellectual  methods  of  the  present 


168 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

generation  of  educated  men.  The  history  of  the  word  is 
instructive.  The  loose  and  unscientific  use  of  this  single 
term  has  done  as  much  as  any  other  single  cause,  to  intro- 
duce  error  into  current  theories  of  nature,  of  man,  and  of 
human  history.  The  remedy  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
rejection  of  either  the  conception  or  the  term,  but  in  a 
rigorous  and  scientific  treatment  of  the  idea  itself,  bv 
which  it  is  made  to  yield  up  its  true  and  exact  meaning; 
whereby  it  shall  be  fitted  to  apply  equally  to  Sacred  and 
to  Profane  History,  to  pure  and  to  corrupt  evolutions,  to 
historic  processes  of  bloom  and  beauty  and  perfection,  and 
to  historic  processes  of  decline,  decay  and  ruin.  The 
downward  tendencies  of  human  nature,  which  constitute 
the  substance  of  Secular  as  distinguished  from  Christian 
History ;  the  acknowledged  deterioration  of  languages, 
literatures,  religions,  arts,  sciences,  and  civilizations;  the 
slow  and  sure  decay  of  national  vigor,  and  return  to  bar¬ 
barism  ;  the  unvarying  decline  from  public  virtue  to  pub¬ 
lic  voluptuousness;  in  short,  the  entire  history  of  man,  so 
far  as  he  is  outside  of  supernatural  influences,  and  un¬ 
affected  bv  the  intervention  of  his  original  Creator,  though 
it  is  a  self-determined  and  responsible  process,  is  yet,  in 
every  part  and  particle,  as  organically  connected,  and  as 
strict  an  evolution,  as  is  that  other  upward  tendency, 
started  in  the  Christian  Church,  and  ended  in  the  eternal 
state,  bv  which  this  same  humanity  is  being  restored  to 
the  heights  whence  it  fell. 

But  while  the  course  of  evolution  in  Secular  or  Profane 
History  presupposes  a  potential  basis  from  which  it  pro¬ 
ceeds,  the  all-important  fact  must  be  noticed,  and  remem¬ 
bered,  that  this  is  a  secondary  basis,  and  not  a  primary  one, 
and  that  the  originating  author  of  this  basis  is  th s  finite* 
and  not  the  infinite  will.  Under  and  within  the  permis¬ 
sive  decree  of  God,  sin  is  man’s  creation  /  he  makes  it 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


169 


out  of  nothing.*  For  the  origin  of  moral  evil  cannot  he 

e_>  O 

accounted  for,  by  the  evolution  of  something  already  in 
existence,  any  more  than  the  origin  of  matter  can  be. 
Original  righteousness,  developed  never  so  long  and  in¬ 
tensely,  will  never  be  transmuted  into  original  sin.  The 
passage,  from  one  to  the  other,  must  be  by  an  absolutely 
original] t  act  of  self-will,  which  act,  subject  only  to  the 
limitation  and  condition  above-mentioned,  of  the  permis¬ 
sion  of  the  Supreme  Being,  is  strictly  creative  from  noth¬ 
ing.  The  origin  of  sin  is  the  origination  of  a  new  historic 
germ,  and  not  the  unfolding  or  modification  of  an  old 
one  ;  and  hence  the  necessity  of  a  creating,  in  distinction 
from  an  evolving  force,  such  as  is  denoted  by  th epossi- 

*  The  analogy  between  the  origination  of  matter  or  of  mind  from 
nothing,  by  Almighty  God,  and  the  origination  of  sin  from  nothing,  by 
the  finite  will,  does  not,  of  course,  hold  good  in  every  respect.  No  finite 
being-  can  create  in  the  strict  and  ordinary  sense  of  originating  a  new 
substance ,  either  material  or  spiritual.  But  sin  is  not  a  substance,  and 
in  saying  that  man  creates  sin,  it  is  only  meant  that  he  alone  is  the  real 
and  true  author  of  it.  He  is  its  first  cause.  He  is  not  necessitated  to 
originate  it,  he  does  not  make  it  out  of  antecedent  sin,  but  begins 
it  cle  novo  and  absolutely.  The  energy  of  the  finite  will  in  the  first  act 
of  sin  resembles  that  of  the  infinite  will  in  creation  proper,  in  that  the 
product  resulting  is  in  each  instance  ex  nihilo.  In  this  sense  sin  is 
man’s  creation.  11  Sin  and  evil,”  says  Athanasius  (Fourth  Oration  against 
the  Arians),  “  are  none  of  God’s  creatures  ;  neither  are  they  as  old  as  his 
creatures  ;  nor  are  they  in  all  his  creatures.  It  is  the  doctrine  and  judg¬ 
ment  of  the  Christian  Church,  in  opposition  to  the  folly  of  the  Manichsean 
hypothesis,  that  nothing  of  sin  or  evil  is  from  God  as  its  author,  or  in  God 
as  its  subject ;  that  it  had  no  place  among  the  works  of  the  six  days’  ciea- 
tion.  Unhappy  man  found  out  a  way  to  make  something  (as  he  thought) 
out  of  nothing,  when  he  ushered  sin  and  disobedience  into  the  world.  He 
made  even  gods  out  of  emptiness  and  nothing.”  Similarly  Coleridge 
(Table  Talk,  May  1,  1830),  remarks  that  a  fall  of  some  sort  or  other, 
the  creation ,  as  it  were,  of  the  non-absolute,  is  the  fundamental  postu¬ 
late  of  the  moral  history  of  man.  Without  this  hypothesis,  man  is 
unintelligible  ;  with  it  every  phenomenon  is  explicable.  The  mystery 
itself  is  too  profound  for  human  insight.” 

8 


170 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


bilitas peccandi  attributed  by  the  theologian  to  the  will  of 
the  unfallen  Adam.  Supposing,  then,  the  first  origina¬ 
tion  of  moral  evil  to  be  carefully  referred  to  the  abuse  of 
human  freedom,  and  keeping  the  process  of  its  evolution 
within  the  same  sphere  of  self-will  in  which  it  took  its 
first  start,  we  may  then  sav,  that  moral  evil  undergoes  a 
development,  as  truly  as  anything  else  that  belongs  to  the 
history  of  man.  If  any  one  doubts  whether  this  term,  so 
often  applied  only  in  a  good  sense  as  to  be  for  the  popu¬ 
lar  mind  the  synonyme  of  normal  progress,  is  properly 
applicable  to  a  process  like  that  of  human  sinfulness,  he 
needs  onlv  to  try  this  process  bv  the  tests  that  are  discrim- 
inated  in  the  metaphysical  analysis  of  the  conception.  He 
will  find  that  human  corruption  and  decline  has  been  as 
organic  a  sequence  from  an  original  centre,  as  is  to  be 
found  in  the  realm  of  matter  itself  ;  that  it  exhibits  all  the 
characteristics  of  an  evolution  :  the  necessary  and  natural 
connection  of  elements  and  properties,  their  action  and 
reaction,  the  sameness  of  generic  principle  in  all  the 
individual  varieties,  and  the  unceasing  motion  of  a  con¬ 
stant  expansion. 

The  same  rigorous  application  of  the  doctrine  of  evolu¬ 
tion,  moreover,  compels  ns  to  the  further  position,  that 
the  reversal  of  this  illegitimate  and  false  process  which  is 
going  on  in  humanity  also  necessitates  a  creative  power. 
For  no  process  of  mere  and  strict  evolution  can  go  behind 
itself,  and  alter  the  base  from  which  it  proceeds.  Radical 
changes  cannot  be  produced  in  this  manner.  There  must 
be  an  originant  energy,  in  order  to  these.  The  passage 
from  holiness  to  sin,  we  have  alreadv  noticed,  cannot  be 

«y 

accounted  for  by  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  and  neither 
can  the  passage  from  sin  to  holiness  be  explained  by  it. 
The  expulsion  of  the  false  germ,  and  the  re-introduction 
of  the  true  one,  must  be  accomplished  by  an  agency  that 


AXD  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


171 


is  creative,  in  distinction  from  one  that  is  merely  expan¬ 
sive.  An  evolution  is  by  its  verv  nature  and  definition  self- 
perpetuating,  until  an  agency  specifically  different  from 
its  own  interferes.  A  germ  of  one  kind  cannot  originate 
a  germ  of  a  different  kind,  and  consequently  there  is  no 
natural  and  germinant  passage  from  an  illegitimate  to  a 
legitimate  potentiality  in  human  history,  any  more  than 
there  is  from  a  vegetable  to  an  animal  species.  The  pas¬ 
sage,  if  there  be  one,  must  be  supernatural :  i.  e.,  the  work 
of  a  creative,  in  distinction  from  an  educing  agency,  and 
by  an  instantaneous  act,  in  distinction  from  a  gradual  pro¬ 
cess. 

Secular  history  is  therefore  separated  from  Christian 
by  a  chasm  over  which  it  cannot  pass,  except  by  the  in¬ 
tervention  of  the  Creator.*  The  abuse  of  human  freedom 

*  The  query  may  arise  in  this  connection,  whether  this  creative 
energy  may  not  be  in  the  fallen  finite  will  itself,  and  thus  there  be  no 
absolute  necessity  of  the  intervention  of  the  infinite  Spirit,  and  employ¬ 
ment  of  special  Divine  efficiency.  If  the  human  will  was  possessed, 
before  its  defection  from  law,  of  a  power  to  create  moral  evil,  why  is  it 
not  possessed,  since  its  fall,  of  a  power  to  create  moral  good  ?  The 
objections  to  this  are  the  following.  (1)  The  affirmation  of  such  a 
power  rests,  solely,  upon  an  apr>ori  foundation.  There  is  no  a  posteriori 
test,  and  verification,  that  corroborates  it.  Fallen  man  is  not  conscious 
of  such  an  originant  energy  to  good,  though  he  is  at  times  conscious  of 
its  lack  ;  and  that  he  never  exerted  it,  is  a  well-established  fact.  This 
power  then  to  originate,  in  distinction  from  develop  and  cultivate, 
holiness,  if  attributed  to  the  sinful  will  at  all,  nmst  be  attributed  upon 
other  grounds  than  psychological  and  practical  ones.  But  metaphysics 
unsupported  by  psychology,  we  have  seen,  must  be  conjectural  merely, 
and  consequently  of  a  spurious  order.  An  abstract  theory  that  is 
destitute  of  its  concrete  correspondent  in  the  world  of  actual  experi¬ 
ence,  like  the  Alchemist's  hypothesis  of  occult  qualities,  is  destitute  of 
scientific  value.  Science  demands  a  matching  of  the  one-half  with  its 
other  half;  of  the  a  priori  with  the  a  posteriori.  If  such  be  the  real 
relation  of  these  two  intellectual  methods  to  each  other,  it  follows  that 
a  position  like  the  one  in  question,  which  can  get  its  support  from  only 
one  of  them,  and  this,  the  least  practical  of  the  two,  should  be  rejected. 


172 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


allows  of  no  self-remedy.  The  new  birth  of  the  human 
spirit  and  the  new  historic  process  resting  upon  it  cannot, 
from  the  very  nature  of  the  case  and  the  very  terms  of  the 
statement,  be  an  evolution  of  the  apostate  man.  To  affirm 
this  would  be  to  confound  evolution  with  creation.  A  clear 
and  distinct  conception,  consequently,  of  the  nature  of 
Secular  History,  guides  the  mind  inevitably  to  the  doc¬ 
trine  and  fact  of  Revelation,  if  a  radical  change  is  to  be 
introduced.  Ho  new  order  of  history  can  possibly  begin, 
if  the  existing  movement  and  evolution  are  simply  left  to 
themselves.  An  absolutely  originant  and  creative  power 

(2)  But  in  the  second  place,  even  if  the  position  in  question  be  held  as 
a  pure  abstraction,  by  a  dead  lift  of  the  intellect,  and  without  any 
experimental  corroboration,  it  then  follows  from  it  that  the  finite  will 
can  be  the  absolute  and  sole  author  of  holiness,  as  it  is  of  sin,  and  that, 
consequently,  it  can  establish  for  itself  an  absolute  meritoriousness 
before  God,  as  it  can  and  has  an  absolute  guiltiness.  It  confessedly  has 
the  power  of  creating  moral  evil  out  of  nothing,  without  the  influence 
and  co-operation  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  so  that  its  demerit  is  absolute, 
and  its  damnation  eternal,  in  case  it  uses  this  power ;  and  if  it  is  capable 
of  originating  moral  good,  in  the  same  unassisted  manner,  then  a  cor¬ 
respondent  absoluteness  of  merit  would  be  established  upon  this  side. 
But  no  finite  will,  not  even  that  of  the  unfallen  angels,  can  take  the 
total  merit  of  holiness  to  itself,  as  the  fallen  will  must  take  the  total 
demerit  of  sinfulness.  It  is  only  on  the  side  of  moral  evil,  that  the  will 
of  the  creature  can  act  without  influence  and  assistance  from  the  Creator, 
because  it  is  only  on  this  side  that  it  can  act  in  opposition  to  Him. 
While,  therefore,  man  by  the  permission  of  the  Supreme,  and  not  with¬ 
out  it,  can  abuse  his  free  agency,  and  establish  a  self-derived,  and  there¬ 
fore  absolute  criminality,  he  can  never,  by  the  use  of  free  agency, 
establish  a  self -derived,  and  therefore  absolute  worthiness.  If,  then,  the 
very  relationship  of  all  moral  good  to  the  Holy  One  is  that  of  depen¬ 
dence,  to  such  a  degree  that  the  doctrine  of  its  absolute  origination,  or 
creation  from  nothing,  is  inapplicable  even  to  the  unfallen  finite  spirit, 
much  more  must  this  doctrine  be  excluded,  in  the  instance  of  the 
apostate  will.  The  theory  of  a  strictly  originant  energy  in  the  soul  of 
man  can,  consequently,  apply  only  to  moral  evil.  All  holiness  in  the 
man  or  angel  is  derived  from  God  ;  but  all  sin  is  self-originated  by  the 
creature. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY, 


173 


must  be  called  in  to  reverse  the  process,  and  give  it  an 
upward  instead  of  a  downward  direction. 


§  3.  The  nature  and  definition  of  Church  History. 

In  explaining  and  applying  the  idea  of  evolution,  we 
have  arrived  at  the  nature  of  History  in  the  abstract,  and 
of  that  specific  concrete  form  which  is  denominated  Pro¬ 
fane  or  Secular.  We  have  now  to  make  a  third  applica¬ 
tion  of  the  idea  to  the  history  of  Christianity. 

Christian  or  Church  History  we  define  to  be  the  restor¬ 
ing  of  the  true  development  of  the  human  spirit,  by  the 
supernatural  agency  of  its  Creator.  The  doctrine  of  evo¬ 
lution  is  now  to  be  applied  to  that  gradual  process  of  re¬ 
covery  from  the  apostasy  of  his  will,  which  regenerated 
man  is  passing  through,  here  on  earth,  as  a  member  of  the 
spiritual  kingdom  of  Christ.  We  shall  find  this  to  be  a 
series,  and  sequence,  as  organic  as  any  that  have  passed 
before  our  review,  or  that  we  can  conceive  of.  The  foun¬ 
der  of  Christianity  Himself  so  describes  it,  when  he  says 
that  “  the  kiimdom  of  heaven  is  like  toasrain  of  mustard 

CD  CD 

seed  which  a  man  took,  and  sowed  in  his  field ;  which 
indeed  is  the  least  of  all  seeds  :  but  when  it  is  grown  it  is 
the  greatest  among  herbs,  and  becometli  a  tree,  so  that  the 
birds  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof  :  ” 
when  He  says,  again,  that  “  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like 
unto  leaven,  which  a  woman  took,  and  hid  in  three  measures 
of  meal,  till  the  whole  was  leavened.”  *  In  these  parables, 
two  of  the  most  thorough  and  inward  processes  in  nature, 
viz. :  those  of  germination  and  fermentation,  are  chosen 
by  our  Lord  to  indicate  the  real  nature  of  his  religion. 


*  Matthew  xiii.  31-33. 


174 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


And  no  one  can  study  the  illustrations  which  He  sc 
frequently  employs  in  order  to  give  a  clear  conception  of 
his  religion  as  it  works  in  the  individual  soul,  and  in  the 
world  at  large,  without  being  convinced  that  it  is,  in  its 
own  sphere  and  kind,  as  much  of  the  nature  of  a  living 
principle  as  the  breath  of  life  in  the  nostrils.  For  these 
illustrations  are  almost  entirely  drawn  from  the  world  of 

*J 

animated  nature,  and  thereby  evince  that  the  Author  of 
nature  and  of  grace  knows  that  the  vitality  of  the  one 
best  symbolizes  and  explains  the  vitality  of  the  other. 

But  if  it  was  of  the  first  importance,  in  the  previous 
sections,  to  direct  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  power 
which  originates  the  germ  of  any  process  is  a  creative  one, 
it  is  certainly  so  in  the  present  instance.  This  free  and 
fresh  unfolding  of  the  Christian  life,  in  the  midst  of  the  de¬ 
cadent  processes  of  Secular  History,  as  was  indicated  in  the 
close  of  the  last  section,  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  any 
latency  lying  undeveloped  in  the  heart  of  the  secular  man. 
Mere  expansion,  forever  and  for  evermore,  would  only  dis¬ 
play  a  more  thoroughly  intense  and  concentrated  corrup¬ 
tion  of  human  nature.  Me  are,  consequently,  once  more 
driven  to  the  Supernatural  and  Divine,  if  any  radical 
change  in  humanity,  and  any  new  species  of  history,  is  to 
be  introduced.  As  Secular  History  is  the  evolution  of  the 
fallen  nature  of  man  left  to  its  own  spontaneity,  so  Chris¬ 
tian  History  is  the  evolution  of  his  regenerated  nature, 
under  the  continued  influence  of  the  power  that  first  and 
instantaneously  effected  the  change.  The  first  question, 
consequently,  that  is  to  be  answered  here,  relates  to  this 
power  itself.  What,  then,  is  that  supernatural  Power, 
which  begins,  carries  forward,  and  perfects  that  new  pro¬ 
cess  of  development  in  human  nature  which  constitutes 
the  sum  and  substance  of  Church  History  ?  In  answering 
this  question,  we  describe,  by  implication,  the  nature  of 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY, 


175 


this  species  of  human  History,  and  obtain  a  clew  to  the 
whole  process  itself. 

Speaking  generally,  the  power  which  begins,  continues, 
and  completes  the  restoration  of  the  true  evolution  of 
humanity,  is  Divine  Revelation.  The  term  is  taken  in 
its  most  comprehensive  meaning,  to  denote  the  entire 
special  communication  which  God  has  made  to  man.  In 
this  generic  form,  it  subdivides  into  two  main  branches: 
(1)  The  revelation  of  Truth ;  (2)  The  dispensation  of  the 
Spirit. 

From  the  fall  in  Eden,  down  to  the  death  of  the  last  of 
the  Apostles,  God,  through  the  medium  of  inspiration,  at 
sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners,  has  imparted  to  the 
mind  of  man  a  body  of  knowledge ,  the  purpose  of  which 
is  to  enlighten  his  darkened  understanding  respecting  his 
origin,  fall,  actual  character,  religious  necessities  and  the 
divine  method  of  meeting’  them.  This  revealed  truth  has 
been  preserved  by  special  providence,  and  is  now,  an  out¬ 
ward,  fixed,  written  revelation. 

Again,  parallel  with  this  species  of  Divine  communi¬ 
cation,  another  has  been  made,  viz. :  a  dispensation  of  di¬ 
rect  spiritual  influence .  The  purpose  of  this  second 
form  of  the  Divine  manifestation,  is  to  renew  and  sanctify 
the  human  soul.  The  function  of  the  first  is  to  enlighten, 
as  that  of  the  second  is  to  enliven.  These  two  forms  of 
God’s  supernatural  self-revelation  are  co-ordinate,  and 
necessary  to  each  other's  success  ;  and  hence  the  dispensa¬ 
tion  of  spiritual  influence  has  accompanied  that  of  truth, 
in  all  ages  of  the  Church  from  the  very  beginning.  For 
although  the  degree  and  extent  of  this  influence  was 
greatly  augmented  after  the  ascension  of  Christ,  yet  it 
would  be  as  incorrect  to  affirm  that  the  kind,  the  fact  itself 
of  direct  divine  efficiency  upon  the  human  soul,  did  not  exist 
in  the  Patriarchal  and  Jewish  churches,  as  it  would  to  assert 


V 


176  THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

that  there  was  no  revelation  of  truth  from  God,  previous 
to  the  Hew  Testament  economy,  because  the  disclosures 
of  this  latter  were  so  much  fuller  than  those  of  its  ante¬ 
cedent. 

Revelation,  then,  in  this  generic  sense,  is  a  unity  and  a 
continuity.  So  far  as  it  is  a  communication  of  Truth,  it 
began  with  the  promise  in  Eden,  and  ended  with  the  glow¬ 
ing  invitation  of  the  beloved  disciple  of  the  Incarnate 
Word,  who  was  also  the  Jehovah  of  the  Patriarchs  and 
Prophets,  addressed  to  all  men  without  distinction,  to  take 
the  water  of  life  freely.  So  far  as  it  is  a  communication 
of  the  Spirit,  it  commenced  with  the  regeneration  of  the 
fallen  pair,  and  has  continued,  through  all  ages,  to  be  the 
efficient  agency  in  applying  the  written  revelation.  Un¬ 
like  the  communication  of  the  Word,  that  of  the  Spirit 
must  continue  to  go  on  until  the  end  of  the  world  ;  and 
yet  the  permanent  co-ordination  and  mutual  necessity  of 
each  will  be  seen  in  the  fact,  that  the  finished  revelation 
of  Truth,  the  concluded  canon  of  Scripture,  wfill  be  em¬ 
ployed  to  the  end  of  time,  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  his  own 
and  only  instrument  of  human  renovation. 

We  have,  then,  in  this  total  Revelation  from  God ,  the 
originant  creative  power  in  Church  History.  The  founda¬ 
tion  of  Secular  History  is  the  human  mind  and  human 
power,  under  the  merely  ordinary  sustaining  agency  of 
Divine  Providence  ;  that  of  Christian  History  is  the  Divine 
mind  and  Divine  power  exerting  themselves  with  an  extra¬ 
ordinary  and  creative  energy.  Supernatural  communica¬ 
tion  from  the  Deity  is  the  great  objective  force  in  this 
species  of  human  History ;  the  foundation  and  principle 
of  the  restored  normal  evolution  of  humanity.  This  re¬ 
velation  of  Himself  on  the  part  of  God,  entering  into  the 
midst  and  mass  of  mankind,  selects  out  a  portion  by  a 
sovereign  act,  regenerates  and  moulds  it  into  a  body  by 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


177 


itself,  separate  from  the  world  though  existing  in  it.* 
This  body  is  therefore  as  truly  organized,  and  organic,  as 
that  larger  body  which  is  denominated  the  race,  or  that 
smaller  body  which  is  denominated  the  state.  It  exhibits 
a  process  possessing  all  the  properties  of  an  expanding 
germ,  and  has  a  history  that  is  vitally  connected,  and 
reciprocally  related,  from  beginning  to  end. 

We  pass,  now,  to  consider  the  characteristics  of  this 
process  of  restoring  the  true  development  of  human  nature, 
in  order  to  obtain  a  yet  fuller  apprehension  of  the  distinc¬ 
tive  peculiarities  of  Church  History. 

1.  Observe,  first,  that  the  development  of  regenerate 
man  here  upon  earth  is  only  imperfectly  normal.  It 
differs  from  what  it  would  have  been  had  human  nature 
unfolded  from  the  original  germ,  without  any  fall  or  de¬ 
viation  from  the  prescribed  career,  by  exhibiting  a  mix¬ 
ture  of  true  and  false  elements.  The  church  on  earth  is 
not  perfect.  Its  career  contains  sections  of  corruption, 
decav.  decline ;  characteristics  that  cannot  belong  to  a 
perfect  process  ;  elements  that  do  not  properly  belong  to 
Church  History,  considering  the  perfection  of  the  germ 
from  which  it  proceeds.  For  inasmuch  as  the  creative 
force  in  this  instance  is  the  perfect  Revelation  of  God,  the 
evolution  that  proceeds  should,  upon  abstract  principles, 
be  an  entirely  perfect  one  also.  Since  the  inward  life  is 
supernatural  and  divine,  the  manifestation  ought  to  be  so 

*  The  fall  of  man  is  generic,  and  hence  all  men  are  fallen ;  the  re¬ 
demption  of  man  is  individual,  and  electing,  and  consequently  only  a 
portion  are  saved.  A  catastrophe,  like  spiritual  apostasy,  occurring  at 
a  point  in  human  history  when  humanity  was  a  unit  and  a  unity,  affects 
the  whole  indiscriminately  and  without  exception  ;  but  when  man  has 
passed  out  of  this  form  of  existence,  into  that  of  a  series  and  succession 
of  individuals,  it  is  plain  that  the  principle  of  individualism  must 
govern  his  restoration,  and  that  redemption,  consequently,  cannot  be 
generic  and  universal. 


178 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


likewise,  and  entirely  vmmixed  wdth  foreign  and  false 
elements. 

But  the  actual  history  of  the  Church  does  not  thus 
exactly  conform  to  this  its  ideal.  It  only  approximates 
to  it,  and  hence  the  restoring  of  the  true  development  of 
humanity  is  not  that  pure  and  spotless  process  which  the 
history  of  man  was  originally  intended  to  exhibit,  and 
which  it  would  have  presented  had  the  first  divinely  de¬ 
signed  unfolding  taken  place.  The  history  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Church,  thouo-h  vastly  different  from  that  of  the 
secular  world,  though  different  in  kind  from  it,  is  by  no 
means  that  perfectly  serene  and  beautiful  evolution  which 
is  going  on  in  the  heavenly  world. 

Church  History,  consequently,  as  we  actually  find  it, 
exhibits  a  complex  appearance,  a  double  movement.  It 
is  both  the  expansion  of  a  true,  and  the  destruction  of  a 
false  evolution.  As,  in  the  instance  of  the  individual 
Christian,  the  career  consists  of  a  double  activity,  the 
living  unto  righteousness  and  the  dying  unto  sin,  so  in  the 
instance  of  the  Church,  the  entire  historv  consists  of  the 
growth  of  the  spiritual  and  holy,  and  the  resistance  of 
the  natural  and  sinful.  The  fiodit  between  the  flesh  and 

o 

the  spirit,  in  the  single  believer,  is  both  a  part  and  a  sym¬ 
bol  of  that  great  contest  between  two  opposing  principles 
which  constitutes  the  charm  of  Church.  Historv,  and  ren- 
ders  it,  for  the  contemplative  mind,  by  far  the  most  inter¬ 
esting,  as  it  is  the  most  important  part  of  the  Universal 
History  of  man  on  the  globe. 

Hence,  although  we  pass  into  the  sphere  of  the  Super¬ 
natural,  into  the  midst  of  supernatural  ideas,  germs,  and 
forces,  on  passing  from  Secular  to  Christian  History,  we 
yet  by  no  means  go  into  a  world  of  calm.  AVe  enter  a  world 
of  thicker  moral  storm,  and  of  hotter  mental  conflict,  than 
is  to  be  found  in  any  section,  or  in  the  whole  range  of 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


179 


Secular  History.  But  there  is  this  great  difference :  the 
storm  is  destined  to  become  an  eternal  calm,  and  the  con¬ 
flict  to  end  in  an  eternal  triumph.  This  complexity  in  the 
process  is  destined  to  become  a  simple  unity,  and  this 
antagonism  a  perfect  harmony.  The  dualism  in  the  now 
imperfectly  normal  history  is  ultimately  to  vanish,  and 
God  is  to  be  all  in  all.  But  so  lone,'  as  the  Church  is  mili- 
tant,  and  until  it  enters  upon  its  eternal  heavenly  career, 
it  cannot  exhibit  that  unmixed  and  pure  process  of  holy 
life  and  growth  which  the  history  of  man  was  originally 
intended  to  be.  The  secondary  restoring  of  a  normal  de¬ 
velopment  is  not,  like  the  primary  unfolding,  a  tranquil 
and  unhindered  process;  and  this  is  the  difference  be¬ 
tween  the  history  of  an  unfallen,  and  that  of  a  regenerate 
spirit. 

2.  Notice,  in  the  second  place,  that  the  development  in 
Church  History  is  not  symmetrical.  We  see  the  same 
lack  of  entire  harmony  in  the  life  of  the  Church  that  we 
do  in  that  of  the  individual  believer.  No  Christian  bio¬ 
graphy  exhibits  a  perfect  proportion  in  the  features  of  the 
religious  character,  or  a  perfect  blending  of  all  the  ele¬ 
ments  of  the  Christian  experience.  The  man  is  either  too 
contemplative,  or  too  practical,  too  vehement,  or  too  tran¬ 
quil.  There  is  but  one  individual  religious  life  that  is 
completely  symmetrical,  and  that  is  the  life  of  the  Divine 
founder  and  exemplar  of  Christianity.  There  are,  indeed, 
different  degrees  of  approximation  to  this  ideal  symmetry. 
Some  characters  are  much  more  proportionate  and  beauti¬ 
ful  than  others,  but  there  is  not  a  single  one  of  them  all 
that  is  so  exactly  conformed  to  the  Divine  model  as  to  be 
an  exact  reproduction  of  it.  Ullmann  speaks  of  a  point 
in  religion,  beyond  which  any  further  improvement  is  not 
only  impossible  but  inconceivable.  He  describes  it,  as 
being  that  completed  oneness  of  the  human  soul  with  God, 


180 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

in  which  the  former  is  determined  in  all  its  movements, 
and  moulded  in  all  its  experiences,  by  the  latter,  and  yet 
feels  that  this  determination  and  moulding  by  the  Divine 
is  no  pantheistic  absorption,  nor  external  compulsion,  but 
its  own  most  free  and  personal  self-determination,  and 
self-formation.*  But  no  Christian  biography  discloses 
such  a  perfect  Christian  consciousness  as  this.  The  holiest 
saints  on  earth  complain  of  inward  conflict  and  an  interest 
separate  from  God,  mourn  over  a  part  of  their  experience 
as  that  of  indwelling  sin,  and  confess  that  even  on  the 
holy  side  there  is  too  much  that  is  ill-balanced,  and  dispro¬ 
portionate.  Not  one  of  them  can  apply  to  himself  in  their 
highest  unqualified  sense  these  words  of  St.  Paul,  u  I  live, 
and  vet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me.”  Not  one  of  them 
has  been  a  perfect  representative,  in  his  earthly  life,  as  lie 
will  be  in  his  heavenlv,  of  the  symmetrical  holiness  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Precisely  the  same  is  seen  in  the  larger 
sphere  of  the  Church ;  for  the  individual  life  is  the 
miniature  of  the  general,  the  microcosm  mirrors  the 
macrocosm.  As  we  trace  the  historic  development  along 
down  the  ages  and  generations  of  believers,  we  find  the 
same  greater  or  less  approximation  to  symmetry,  but  never 
absolute  proportion. 

If  we  look  at  the  history  of  Christianity  upon  its  prac¬ 
tical  side,  we  find  it  an  imperfectly  symmetrical  process. 
There  are  indications  in  the  Apostolic  epistles  themselves, 
that  the  gushing  love  and  glowing  zeal  of  the  Apostolic 
Church  sometimes  passed  over  into  an  extreme  that  in¬ 
jured  the  experience.  The  strong  side  of  the  character  of 
the  early  Christians  is  their  vivid  life  and  feeling,  and  not 
a  discriminating  knowledge  of  the  Christian  system,  or  of 
human  nature  at  large.  They  apprehended  truth  chiefly 


*  Studien  und  Kritiken,  1840.  p.  48. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


1S1 


in  the  way  of  feeling  and  experience,  and  expected  to  find 
their  own  warm  affection  for  it  in  every  one  who  professed 
discipleship.  Hence  their  liability  to  be  deceived  by 
false  teachers,  and  their  readiness  to  be  led  astray  by  false 
doctrine ;  traits  to  which  the  Apostolic  epistles  often 
allude,  and  against  which  they  seek  to  guard  by  a  more 
thorough  instruction  of  this  glowing  love,  and  cautious 
guidance  of  this  ardent  zeal.  Paul,  speaking  to  the 
Roman  Church  of  those  who  by  good  words  and  fair 
speeches  would  deceive  the  hearts  of  the  simple  ( ukukcov , 
the  artless  and  guileless  good),  adds,  “  I  would  have  you 
wise  unto  that  which  is  good,  and  simple  concerning 
evil.”*  In  writing  to  the  Corinthian  church,  he  enjoins 
it  upon  them  not  to  be  children  in  understanding;  in 
malice  they  might  be  children,  utterly  unacquainted  with 
any  such  thing,  but  in  understanding  they  must  be  men.f 
The  frequent  warnings  against  false  teachers  and  doctrine 
in  the  epistles  of  John  we  need  not  specify.  So  liable 
was  the  guileless  simplicity  and  pure  love  of  the  Apostolic 
church  to  be  imposed  upon  ;  so  defective  was  this  first 
form  of  the  Christian  experience  on  the  side  of  knowledge  ; 
that  the  Head  of  the  church  made  up  for  the  deficiency, 
and  protected  his  people  by  a  special  oharism  or  miracu¬ 
lous  gift,  viz.  :  the  power  of  discerning  spirits,  of  reading 
the  inward  and  real  character  of  pretended  teachers  of 
Christianity. 

YvTien  we  pass  from  this  first  age  to  a  succeeding  one, 
like  that  between  Constantine  and  Hildebrand,  or,  still 
more,  like  that  between  Hildebrand  and  the  Reformation, 
we  find  the  Christian  character  defective  in  just  the  oppo¬ 
site  respect.  Speaking  comparatively,  as  we  always  must 
when  comparing  historic  periods  with  each  other,  wTe  may 

*  Romans,  xvi.  18,  19. 

f  1  Corinthians,  xiv.  20. 


182 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


say  that  the  simplicity  aucl  love  have  been  lost  in  the 
extreme  of  knowledge  and  discrimination.  The  adoption 
of  Christianity  by  the  temporal  power  secularized  it, 
and  while  the  first  Christians  were  too  ignorant  of  men 
and  things,  the  Grecian-Roman  and  the  Roman  Catholic 
Churches  knew  them  too  well  for  the  guilelessness  and 
simple  love  of  a  symmetrical  Christian  character.  They 
obeyed  the  first  half  of  our  Lord’s  injunction,  but  not  the 
last.  They  were  wise  as  serpents,  but  were  not  harmless 
as  doves. 

If  again  we  look  at  the  historical  development  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  on  the  theoretic  side  as  a  system  of  doctrines,  we 
find  the  same  defect  in  the  process.  Some  ages  under¬ 
value  knowledge  altogether,  and  exhibit  little  or  no  scien- 
tific  interest  of  any  kind.  Others  are  almost  exclusively 
speculative.  It  is  as  impossible  to  find  an  age,  as  it  is  an 
individual,  in  whom  and  7 tIcttls,  light  and  life, 

knowledge  and  feeling,  are  mingled  in  exact  proportions. 
TIence  the  whole  series  of  periods  and  ages  contains  more 
of  the  lineaments  of  a  perfect  symmetry  than  any  single 
one  of  them  does,  and  the  full  idea  of  Christianity  approx¬ 
imates  nearer  to  a  full  embodiment  in  the  Church  Univer¬ 
sal  than  in  any  particular  branch  of  it. 

This,  therefore,  is  a  proper  place  to  allude  to  the  error 
of  selecting  some  one  ecclesiastical  period  as  the  model 
for  all  time,  and  some  one  church  as  the  ideal  for  all 
churches.  It  is  a  false  view  of  history  that  would  set  up 
the  church  of  the  two  centuries  preceding  and  the  two 
centuries  following  the  Ricene  council,  as  that  one  partic¬ 
ular  section  by  which  the  church  of  the  present  and  the 
future  should  form  itself.  The  attempt  of  the  Oxford 
party  in  the  English  church  to  revive  Kicene  Christianity 
as  the  normal  tvpe  was  utterlv  unhistoric  as  well  as  irra- 
tional.  That  period  undoubtedly  had  its  excellences,  and 


AXD  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


183 


•just  as  undoubtedly  its  defects.  Its  Christianity  lacked  a 
perfect  symmetry.  It  can,  therefore,  furnish  only  some 
features  that  are  to  be  imitated,  and  perpetuated,  by  the 
church  of  the  present,  and  the  church  of  the  future.  Its 
determined  opposition  to  heretical  conceptions,  and  its 
comparatively  vigorous  missionary  spirit,  are  two  charac¬ 
teristics  of  this  period  that  deserve  to  be  reproduced  in 
all  coming  time.  The  church,  in  this  pantheistic  and 
rationalistic  age,  should  keep  fast  hold  of  those  statements 
of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  of  the  Person  of 
Christ,  which  had  their  origin  in  this  period.  The  church 
in  this  and  in  every  age  should  retain  the  substance  of 
those  profound  anthropological  views  which  were  the 
result  of  the  great  controversy  between  Augustine  and 
Pelagius.  But  surely  no  mind  that  has  any  just  concep¬ 
tion  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  Christianity  can  desire  that 
such  views  of  prelacy  and  primacy,  of  celibacy  and  mo¬ 
nastic-ism,  of  the  eflicacv  of  the  sacraments  in  connection 

J  u 

with  the  meritoriousness  of  good  works,  as  prevailed  in 
this  patristic  period,  should  be  recommended  to  the  church 
in  all  time  for  servile  reception.  He  who  follows  the  his¬ 
tory  of  the  Christian  Religion  from  its  beginning  down  to 
the  present  will  not  go  the  Hicene  period  for  the  most 
accurate  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith,  or  for  the  most  scriptural  conceptions  of  the  nature 
of  Christian  virtue,  and  of  ecclesiastical  polity.  He 
knows  of  other  periods  whose  more  special  and  successful 
function  it  was  to  unfold  these  latter  doctrines,  as  it  was 
that  of  the  Xicene  period  to  construct  the  doctrines  of 
Theology  and  Christologv. 

As  really,  though  not  equally,  is  it  an  error  to  set  up 
the  Apostolic  Church  as  the  model  for  all  time.  That 
brotherly  affection,  and  that  tender  vet  deathless  love 

t J  y 

towards  the  Redeemer,  must  be  a  model  for  all  ages,  and 


184 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


will  probably  never  be  excelled  by  any  generation  of 
Christians.  But  the  conflict  which  Christianity  has  to 
wage  with  a  cultivated  skepticism  and  a  subtle  heresy,  and 
that  prudent  discrimination  which  is  needed  in  some 
emergencies  to  protect  the  earthly  interests  of  the  church, 
call  for  a  development  of  Christianity  in  an  intellectual 
and  scientific  direction  of  which  we  see  little  or  nothing 
in  the  Apostolic  brotherhood.*  The  primitive  Christians 
were  in  reality  the  pupils  and  children  of  the  apostles, 
who  answered  all  their  questions,  relieved  all  their  doubts, 
and  fought  all  their  intellectual  conflicts  for  them.  But 
the  apostles  were  an  order  of  men  which  has  not  been 
perpetuated,  to  be  the  guardians  and  instructors  of  the 
church  in  every  emergency.  Their  writings  are  left,  it  is 
true,  but  how  often  would  even  the  didactic  and  thought¬ 
ful  theologian,  or  the  learned  but  perplexed  council  or 
assembly,  after  all  its  diligent  study  of  these  writings, 
have  gladly  betaken  themselves,  like  the  church  at  Cor¬ 
inth  or  Borne  when  in  difficulty,  to  the  inspired  mind  of 
a  living  apostle,  for  a  further  communication  specially 
adapted  to  the  case  in  hand.  This  age  of  pupilage  could 
not  continue,  and  therefore  it  cannot  be  set  forth,  any 
more  than  any  other  one,  as  the  model  to  which  all  after 
ages  are  to  be  conformed  in  every  respect. 

In  short,  the  student  of  the  whole  course  of  historical 
development  will  seek  to  make  up  for  the  want  of  that 
symmetry  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  one  section,  by 
combining  excellences  that  are  found  in  each,  and  reject¬ 
ing  the  defects  that  are  found  in  all.  For  only  in  the 

*  This  Church  might  say,  iu  reference  to  scientific  statements  of  the 
doctrines  of  Scripture,  as  the  unlettered  woman  spoken  of  in  Chalmers’ 
memoirs  did  when  asked  some  theological  questions  respecting  the  per¬ 
son  of  the  Redeemer,  on  her  examination  for  admission  to  the  church : 
“I  cannot  describe  him,  but  I  would  die  for  him.” 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


185 


career  of  the  church  as  a  whole,  does  he  find  the  nearest 
approximation  to  that  church  u  without  spot  or  wrinkle,” 
spoken  of  in  Scripture,  and  of  which  Divine  Revelation  is 
the  originating  power  and  perfecting  principle. 

3.  Notice,  in  the  third  place,  that  the  development  in 
Church  History  is  not  uniform  in  every  part.  This  dupli¬ 
city  in  the  restoring  process,  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
hinders  the  movement.  If  there  were  onl}T  a  single  divine 
principle,  and  no  remainders  of  a  sinful  human  one,  in 
the  regenerated  soul,  the  entire  career  of  the  Christian 
Church,  would  be  one  uninterrupted  onward  motion,  one 
continual  triumph  of  truth  on  the  earth.  But  the  religious 
life  is  enfeebled,  and  diminished,  by  the  carnal  and  secu¬ 
lar,  in  both  the  individual,  and  the  church.  In  one  age 
Christianity  is  vigorous,  and  its  rapid  extension  into  pagan 
regions  is  the  consequence.  A  succeeding  age  presents 
the  melancholy  spectacle  of  decay  and  decline  in  these 
parent  churches,  and,  perhaps,  the  beginning  of  the  same 
process  in  the  newly-formed  societies.  Northern  Africa 
from  the  second  to  the  fifth  century  was  the  seat  of  a  very 
vigorous  religion,  both  in  practical  and  speculative 
respects.  Tertullian,  Origen,  and  Augustine  represent  a 
Christianity  as  influential  as  any  that  lies  back  of  the  Re¬ 
formation.  But  these  North  African  churches  disappear 
from  Christendom  with  the  suddenness  of  the  lost  Bleiad 
from  the  sky,  and  from  the  time  of  the  Mohammedan  in- 
vasion  to  the  present  that  whole  region  has  no  place  in 
Church  History.  Such  a  phenomenon  as  this  cannot  be 
accounted  for  by  external  causes.  Terrible  as  the  Saracen 
invasion  was,  a  civilization  and  culture  resting  upon  a 
sound  and  healthy  Christianity  in  Northern  Africa  would 
have  stopped  and  beaten  back  the  Saracen,  as  instantane¬ 
ously  and  decisively  as  he  was  by  Charles  Martel  and  his 
warlike  Franks.  History,  secular  as  well  as  sacred,  shows 


1S6 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


tliat  no  form  of  heathenism  or  of  worldly  power  can 
compete  with  a  true  and  genuine  Christendom.  But  an 
interior  process  of  decline  aud  decay  had  gone  on  in  the 
very  heart  of  these  churches  and  this  Christian  society. 
The  moral  and  intellectual  strength  had  departed  along 
with  the  pure  scriptural  piety  of  the  founders  and  first 
witnesses,  and  the  whole  population  fell  an  easy  prey 
to  the  fanatic  zeal  of  the  Mohammedan.  Instances  like 
this  throng  upon  the  mind,  but  a  single  one  is  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  external  development  of  Christianity  is  con¬ 
stantly  liable  to  interruption  in  parts  and  sections  of  the 
entire  career.  The  same  fact  stares  us  in  the  face,  if  we 
look  at  its  internal  history.  Compare  the  present  condi¬ 
tion  of  the  Eastern  church,  with  what  it  was  when  it  took 
the  lead  of  the  Western;  when  its  Athanasius  was  the 
theologian,  and  its  golden  mouthed  Chrvsostom  the  orator, 
for  all  Christendom.  If  this  church  could,  this  day,  be 
put  back  fifteen  hundred  years,  it  would  be  in  advance  of 
its  present  position.  The  development  has  been  inter¬ 
mitted  for  this  length  of  time,  and  will  continue  to  be, 
until  an  infusion  of  fresh  life,  through  the  missionary 
efforts  of  Protestant  churches  and  the  Divine  blessing  upon 
them,  occurs. 

4.  Notice,  in  the  fourth  place,  as  a  sequence  from  these 
defects  in  the  development  which  we  have  mentioned, 
that  in  Ecclesiastical  History  we  can  affirm  a  normal  prog¬ 
ress  only  as  we  view  the  Church  as  a  whole.  Truth  and 
piety  are  unfolded  in  the  long  run  of  ages,  though  not 
necessarily  in  each  and  every  one  of  them  ;  in  the  general 
run  of  churches,  though  not  necessarily  in  each  and  every 
one  of  them.  Though  the  process  is  hindered,  turned 
aside,  and  temporarily  stopped,  by  the  corrupt  free  agency 
of  man,  it  is  yet  as  a  whole  under  the  guidance  and  pro¬ 
tection  of  God,  and  therefore  goes  on ;  if  not  in  this 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY, 


18? 


nation  ancl  age,  jet  in  another.  We  know  from  the  prom¬ 
ise  of  the  Author  of  Christianity  that  his  religion  is  des- 
tilled  to  a  far  wider  extension  among  men  than  has  yet 
been  seen  ;  and  upon  this  we  must  ultimately  rest,  in 
order  to  maintain  a  confident  expectation  that  such  will  be 
the  fact.  Much  is  sometimes  said  of  the  self-realizing 
power  of  Christianity,  but  unless  we  identity  the  system 
with  its  Author  ;  unless  we  think  of  the  Word  and  the 
Spirit  of  God  as  one  undivided  agency;  we  cannot  read 
certain  chapters  of  Church  History  with  any  firm  belief 
that  even  revealed  truth  will  continue  to  expand  with 
genial  life  within  the  hearts  of  men,  and  exert  a  continu¬ 
ous  and  mighty  influence  age  after  age.  Take  away  from 
Christianity  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  very 
life  of  the  system  disappears.  Take  away  from  Church 
History  the  actual  dispensation  of  spiritual  influences,  and 
the  vitality  of  the  process  departs.  And  it  is  because  the 
Holy  Spirit  has  never  left  the  Church  as  a  whole,  while 
He  has  suspended  his  quickening  influences  in  sections, 
that  we  can  say  with  the  strictest  truth,  that  the  progress 
of  the  great  whole  has  been  continuous,  though  sometimes 
interrupted  in  the  parts. 

5.  Notice  in  the  fifth  place  that  the  development  of  a 
section  or  an  age,  in  Church  History,  is  often  only  the  re¬ 
production  of  some  preceding  type.  When  Christianity 
has  declined,  in  a  particular  branch  of  the  Church,  the  re¬ 
formation  that  takes  place  is  really  only  the  restoration  of 
a  previous  form  of  vital  godliness.  It  is  not,  however, 
the  mere  copy  of  an  antecedent  period,  containing  no 
more  and  no  less  elements,  and  in  just  the  same  propor¬ 
tions.  History  exhibits  no  fac  similes.  There  is  no  copy¬ 
ing  in  a  living  process,  but  there  is  reproduction,  and  a 
great  amount  of  it.  The  Protestant  Reformation  was  the 
revival  of  that  genuine  doctrine,  and  holy  life,  which  had 


1SS 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


manifested  itself  once  before  in  the  church  of  the  first 
five  centuries.  And  yet  it  was  not  a  mere  repetition  of 
it,  because  those  corrupt  elements,  in  doctrine  and  morals, 
which  began  to  come  in  particularly  after  the  union  of 
Church  and  State  under  Constantine,  were  expelled  by  the 
newly  awakened  religious  life*  The  feeling  of  guilt, 
moreover,  was  more  keen  and  poignant,  and  the  appropria¬ 
tion  of  atonement  more  intelligent  and  cordial,  than  in  the 
patristic  period.  Still,  it  was  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word, 
a  re-production,  and  it  called  itself  a  reformation.  The 
aim  of  Luther  was  to  restore  a  piety  that  had  once  before 
been  the  glory  and  strength  of  the  church,  aud  not  to  in- 
vent  anv  new  stvle  of  Christian  life.  Probably,  in  the 

outset,  his  desire  was  merely  to  make  the  Roman  Catholic 

* 

church  what  it  was  in  the  first  three  centuries,  before  the 
Romish  bishop  had  become  the  Romish  pope.  And  it 
was  not  until  he  saw  that  the  Romish  church  of  1517  was 
radically  different,  in  doctrine  and  in  practice,  from  the 
Roman  church  of  350,  and  radically  different  from  that 
invisible  church  to  which  he  himself  belonged,  in  com¬ 
mon  with  rhe  holy  of  all  ages,  that  he  understood  the  true 
relation  of  the  invisible  to  the  visible,  and  became  the  in¬ 
strument  in  the  hand  of  God  of  continuing  the  life  of  the 
church  invisible,  or  the  true  catholic  church,  under  a  new 
outward  organization.  The  ecclesiastical  progress  which 
Luther  desired  for  the  age  in  which  he  lived  was  a  return 
to  an  age  that  lay  more  than  a  thousand  years  nearer  the 
first  promulgation  and  spread  of  Christianity. 

If  we  turn  to  the  theology  of  the  Reformatory  period, 
the  same  fact  meets  us.  The  two  theologians  of  this  age 
were  Melanchthon  and  Calvin.  Examine  the  “  Loci  Com¬ 
munes  ”  of  the  one,  and  the  “Institutes  55  of  the  other,  and 
see  the  substantial  reproduction  of  an  earlier  theology. 
From  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  Institutes,  in  par- 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


1S9 


ticnlar,  there  is  a  continual  appeal  to  Augustine.  Calvin, 
though  of  singularly  strong  and  independent  mind,  and 
thoroughly  convinced  that  the  Scriptures  are  the  only  in¬ 
fallible  rule  of  faith  and  practice,  and  thoroughly  ac¬ 
quainted  with  them  through  a  most  exhaustive  exegesis, 
nevertheless  uniformly  cites  the  exegetical  and  systematic 
opinions  of  the  Latin  father  as  corroborative  of  his  own. 
And  the  relation  between  the  two  systems,  is  not  merely 
that  of  confirmation  and  corroboration.  So  far  as  human 
influence  was  concerned,  the  one  grew  out  of  the  other, 
and  the  other  formed  the  one.  Thus  was  it  regarded  as  a 
progressive  advance,  by  the  leading  spirits  of  the  Refor¬ 
mation,  to  revive  an  antecedent  form  of  faith  and  prac¬ 
tice,  and  in  the  sixteenth  century  to  return  to  the  first  five 
centuries. 

Do  we  not  in  these  facts  find  an  incidental,  but  strong, 
corroboration  of  the  position,  that  Church  History  is  a 
process  of  organic  development  ?  Something  more  than 
mere  chronological  sequence,  without  action  and  reaction, 
is  needed  to  account  for  such  phenomena  as  we  have  been 
noticing.  If  the  movement  of  Christianity  in  the  world 
were  merely  rectilinear,  straight  forward  in  one  line,  we 
ought,  to  find  each  succeeding  age  possessed  of  all  that  the 
preceding  had  possessed,  together  with  something  more  of 
its  own.  In  this  case,  the  last  must  be  wisest  and  holiest 
of  all.  But  such  is  not  the  movement.  The  motion  is 
circular,  and  spiral,  rather  than  straight  onward.  The 
process  is  organic,  and  not  mechanic,  or  mathematical.  The 
line  returns  into  itself,  so  that,  as  in  the  old  philosophy,  it 
is  the  circle,  and  not  the  right  line,  that  symbolizes  the 
living  process. 

It  is  from  this  rectilinear  rather  than  spiral  conception, 
this  mechanical  rather  than  organic  idea  of  History,  that 
the  common  fallacy  arises  of  supposing  that  each  age,  as 


190 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


matter  of  course,  contains  all  tlie  development  of  the  past, 
merely  because  it  happens  to  be  chronologically  last  in  the 
I  series.  This  error  rests  upon  the  assumption,  that  juxta¬ 
position  and  location  determine  everything  in  History,  and 
that  a  man  living  in  the  nineteenth  century  is  wiser  of 
course  than  one  living  in  the  seventeenth,  because  nineteen 
are  two  more  than  seventeen.  This  would  be  the  case,  if 
History  were  not  an  organic  process,  in  which  a  part  that 
has  come  into  existence  last  in  the  order  of  time,  is  very 
often  inferior  and  degenerate  in  point  of  quality.  The 
latest  blossoms  are  not  always  fruit  blossoms.*  We  have 
seen  that  in  any  organism  whatever,  the  parts  are  recipro¬ 
cally  means  and  end.  Each  exists  for  all  and  all  for 
each,  so  that  no  one  part  can  be  exalted  to  a  supremacy 
over  all  the  others.  Hence,  in  History  there  is  a  continual 
inter-dependency.  Ho  one  age  is  superior  to  all  others. 
Some  past  periods,  in  the  history  of  the  church,  have 
been  in  advance  of  the  present  in  some  particulars.  The 
present  is  never  in  advance  of  all  the  past,  in  all  respects. 
The  age  of  the  Reformation  was  in  advance  of  the  nine- 
teentli  century,  in  a  profound  and  living  apprehension  of 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  The  best  Soteriology 
is  derived  from  the  sixteenth  century.  The  creeds  of  the 
Reformers,  in  connection  with  the  practical  and  theoretical 
writings  by  which  they  defended  and  explained  them, 
have  been  the  chief  human  instrument  in  forming  the 

*  Both  Bacon  and  Pascal  notice  this  oscillation  in  human  progress. 
“As  it  happeneth  sometimes,”  says  Bacon  (Advancement  of  Learning, 
B.  I.),  “that  the  grandchild,  or  other  descendant,  resembleth  the  an¬ 
cestor  more  than  the  son  doth  ;  so,  many  times,  occurrences  of  present 
times  may  sort  better  with  ancient  examples,  than  with  those  of  latter 
or  immediate  times.”  Pascal  (Miscellanies)  remarks  that  “  nature 
works  progressively  :  itus  et  reditus.  She  passes  on  and  returns  ;  then 
recedes  further,  then  twice  the  space  back,  then  further  for  vard  than 
ever,  and  so  on  indefinitely.” 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


191 


present  Protestant  theory  of  Redemption.  The  present 
age,  on  the  other  hand,  has  advanced  greatly  beyond  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  in  respect  to  the  ap¬ 
plication  of  Christianity  to  the  wants  of  the  world,  and  the 
exercise  of  a  practical  missionary  spirit.  Thus,  one  age  is 
the  teacher  of  another,  the  pupil  of  a  second,  the  stimu¬ 
lator  of  a  third.  In  some  way  or  another,  each  of  the  his¬ 
toric  sections  sustains  a  relation  of  action  and  reaction  ;  and 
in  and  by  this  interagency  the  total  process  of  evolution 
goes  forward.  Looking  at  the  parts,  we  find  them  deficient ; 
looking  at  the  whole,  we  find  it  approximately  complete. 

At  this  point,  then,  let  us  retrace  our  steps,  and  suc¬ 
cinctly  state  the  results  to  which  we  have  come. 

In  the  first  division  of  the  subject,  we  obtained  the 
definition  of  Abstract  History.  We  found  it  to  be  evo¬ 
lution  in  the  abstract;  a  continuous  process  merely,  with¬ 
out  any  qualification,  in  which  the  connection  of  parts  and 
elements  is  necessary,  natural,  and  organic.  This  is  the 
most  general  idea,  and  is  capable  of  being  applied  to  each 
and  every  particular  species  of  history,  be  it  natural  or 
moral ;  be  it  the  history  of  a  vegetable,  or  of  a  man.  But 
inasmuch  as  it  is  universal  and  abstract,  it  does  not  of  it¬ 
self  determine  the  character  and  value  of  the  process.  It 
simply  indicates  that  it  is  an  evolution  from  a  poten¬ 
tial  base,  but  with  the  specific  qualities  of  this  base, 
the  abstract  conception  has  no  concern,  and  hence  the 
doctrine  of  evolution  is  applicable,  indifferently,  to  a 
latency  that  is  good,  or  to  a  latency  that  is  evil ;  to  a  germ 
originated  by  the  Creator,  or  to  a  germ  originated  by  the 
creature.  This  rigorously  abstract  conception  of  the  idea 
precludes  that  imperfect  and  narrow  apprehension  of  it 
which  insists,  either  expressly  or  tacitly,  that  every  germ 
is  of  necessity  good,  and  that  all  development  is  an  inevi¬ 
table  normal  process. 


192 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


In  the  second  division  of  the  subject,  we  have  obtained 
a  definition  of  Secular  History.  This  we  have  found  to 
be  a  particular  species  of  evolution :  that,  namely,  of  a 
false  germ.  The  common  or  so-called  profane  history  of 
man  is  an  illegitimate  process,  but  none  the  less  an  or¬ 
ganic  one,  to  which  the  idea  of  development  applies  with 
its  fullest  force.  The  difference  between  the  Secular  and 
the  Christian  unfolding  of  humanity  relates  not  to  the 
continuous  nature  of  the  processes  themselves,  but  to  the 
specific  difference  between  their  potential  bases.  The 
germ  of  the  latter  is  the  creation  of  the  infinite  will,  while 
that  of  the  former  is  the  product  of  a  finite  faculty  in  its 
fall  from  God. 

In  the  third  division  of  the  subject  we  found  a  second 
species  of  concrete  history :  that  of  the  Christian  Church. 
The  foundation  of  this  is  laid  by  a  supernatural  power 
\\  hich  is  sitrictl}7  creative,  and  as  such  reoriginates  the  lost 
principle  of  spiritual  life  in  the  apostate  creature.  From 
this  germinal  point,  under  the  maintaining  and  educating 
energy  of  the  same  Divine  power  that  established  it,  a 
new  development  of  humanity  commences,  which  grad¬ 
ually  destroys  and  expels  the  relics  of  the  false  germ, 
and  though  hindered  and  imperfect  in  its  stadia  here  be¬ 
low,  runs  its  round,  and  becomes  a  perfect  and  serene 
evolution  in  eternity. 

Neither  one  of  these  two  evolutions  can  be  or  become  a 
potential  base  for  the  other.  Each  can  proceed  only 
from  its  own  germ.  The  origination  of  a  false  germ  in 
the  place  of  the  expelled  true  one,  and  the  restoration  of 
the  true  one  in  the  place  of  a  dying  false  one,  are  both  of 
them  events  that  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  the  theory 
of  development.  There  is  no  passage  in  the  way  of  evo¬ 
lution y  either  from  holiness  to  sin,  or  from  sin  to  holi¬ 
ness. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


193 


§  4.  The  verifying  test  in  Christian  History. 

Having  how  determined  and  applied  the  idea  of  evo¬ 
lution,  and  thereby  come  to  an  understanding  of  the  na¬ 
ture  of  both  abstract  and  concrete  history,  the  second 
question  mentioned  in  the  first  section,  viz.  :  How  may 
we  verify  our  a  priori  conception  in  any  particular  in¬ 
stance  ?  still  remains  to  be  answered.  This  introduces  to 
our  notice  the  general  subject  of  tests  in  History.  To  fol¬ 
low  out  this  subject  into  all  its  branches  would  carry  us 
beyond  the  limits  we  have  prescribed  for  ourselves,  and 
we  shall  accordingly,  as  in  a  previous  instance,  confine  the 
discussion  chiefly  to  Church  History. 

Lord  Bacon,  in  both  the  Hovum  Organum  and  De 
Augmentis  Scientiarum,  teaches  that  “  the  sciences  require 
a  form  of  induction  capable  of  explaining  and  separating 
experiments,  and  coming  to  a  certain  conclusion,  by  a 
proper  series  of  rejections  and  exclusions.”  *  This  “form 
of  induction”  in  other  places  he  terms  a  “method,”  or 
“  clue,”  by  which  the  mind  is  to  be  led  through  the  be¬ 
wildering  multitude  of  phenomena  and  experiments, 
without  being  confused  by  their  variety,  and  deceived  by 
their  contrariety. f  By  it  he  means  that  correct  a  priori 
conception  of  a  thing,  in  the  light  of  which  the  inquirer 
is  to  detect  all  that  properly  belongs  to  it,  and  to  reject 

*  Opus  est  ad  scientias  inductionis  forma  tali,  quee  experientiam 
solvet,  et  separet.  et  per  exclusiones  ac  rejectiones  debitas  necessario 
concludat.  De  Augmentis  (Distributio  operis).  At  inductio,  quse  ad 
inventionem  et  demonstrationem  scientiarum  et  artium  erit  utilis, 
naturam  separare  debet,  per  rejectiones  et  exclusiones  debitas ;  ac  de- 
inde  post  negativas  tot  quot  sufficiunt,  super  affirmativas  concludere. 
Novum  Organum,  lib.  i.,  §  105. 

f  Adhibenda  est  inductio  legitima  et  vera,  quas  ipsa  clavis  est  inter* 
pretationis.  Novum  Organum,  lib.  ii. ,  §  10. 


194  THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

all  that  does  not.  The  reader  of  Bacon  is  struck  with  the 
frequency  with  wdiich  he  speaks  of  “ rejections”  and 
“  exclusions  ”  in  the  investigation  of  nature.  He  every¬ 
where  assumes  that  there  is  a  complexity,  a  mixture,  and 
to  some  extent  a  contrariety  in  this  domain,  that  renders 
some  foregoing  tests  necessary,  in  order  that  the  true  ma¬ 
terials  for  science  may  be  discriminated  from  the  false, 
It  is  not  enough  to  employ  the  senses  in  a  merely  passive 
manner,  and  see  all  that  is  visible,  and  accept  all  that  is 
offered ;  to  allow  the  stream  of  facts  and  appearances  to 
flow  along  by  the  mind,  and  simply  describe  what  has 
passed.  Bacon’s  phraseology  often  implies  an  inducing 
of  the  mind  into  the  senses;  an  introducing  into  this  com¬ 
plex  aggregate  of  sensational  materials,  of  a  mental  or 
rational  principle,  that  is  to  simplify  and  organize;  in 
short,  an  induction  of  a  method  or  an  idea  inwards,  as 
well  as  a  deduction  of  particular  conclusions  outwards.* 
Opposed  as  this  sagacious  and  thoroughly  English  mind 

*  Ea  forma  inductionis,  de  qua  dialectici  loquuntur,  quae  procedit  per 
enumerationem  simplicem  [impressionum  sensuum],  puerile  quiddam 
est,  et  precario  concludit.  Sensus  ipsius  informationes  multis  mod  is 
excutimus.  Sensus  enim  fallunt  utique.  Duplex  est  sensus  culpa  :  aut 
enim  destituit  nos,  aut  decipit.  Itaque  perceptioni  sensus  immediatae 
ac  propriae  non  multum  tribuimus  :  sed  eo  rem  deducimus,  ut  sensus 
tantum  de  experimento,  experimentum  de  re  judicet.  De  Augmentis 
(Distributio  operis).  Mentis  opus  quod  sensum  subsequitur  plerunque 
rejiciamus.  Novum  Organum  (Prasfatio).  Fallunt,  et  incompetentes 
sunt  eae  demonstrationes  quibus  utimur  in  universo  illo  processu,  qui  a 
sensu  et  rebus  ducit  ad  axiomata  et  conclusiones.  Qui  quidem  pro¬ 
cessus  quadruplex  est,  et  vitia  ejus  totidem.  Prirno,  impressiones 
sensus  ipsius  vitiosae  sunt ;  sensus  enim  et  destituit  et  fallit.  At  desti- 
tutionibus  substitutiones,  fallaciis  rectificationes  debentur.  Secundo, 
notiones  ab  impressionibus  sensuum  male  abstrahuntur ;  et  intenninatae 
et  confusae  sunt,  quas  terminatas  et  bene  finitas  esse  oportuit.  Tertio, 
inductio  mala  est,  quae  per  enumerationem  simplicem  principia  con¬ 
cludit  scientiarum,  non  adhibites  exclusionibus  et  solutionibus,  sive 
separationibus  naturae  debitis.  Novum  Organum,  lib.  i.,  §  69. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


195 


was  to  the  unverified  and  mere  conjectures  of  the  fancy, 
such  as  the  alchemists,  e.  g.,  employed  in  investigating 
nature,  he  was  not  opposed  to  the  initiating  ideas  and  pre¬ 
conceived  methods  of  the  contemplative  scientific  mind. 
The  fictions  of  occult  qualities  and  hidden  spirits  he  re¬ 
jected,  but  his  own  map  of  the  great  kingdom  of  nature, 
with  his  full  list  of  a  priori  tests  and  capital  experiments, 
to  guide  the  inquirer  through  a  region  which  he  has  not 
yet  travelled  over,  and  in  which  Bacon  himself  had  en¬ 
tered  only  here  and  there  by  actual  experiment  and  ob¬ 
servation,  shows  that  he  regarded  the  sober  and  watchful 
employment  of  the  a  priori  method,  by  the  scientific 
mind,  to  be  not  only  legitimate  but  necessary.  * 

Such  a  “form  of  induction  ”  is  needed  in  History,  in 
order  that  the  investigator  may  make  the  requisite  detec¬ 
tions,  adoptions,  rejections,  and  exclusions.  For  this 
science  is  not  a  miscellany  of  all  that  has  happened.  The 
historic  spirit  is  not  an  undiscriminating  one.  The  histo¬ 
rian  needs  to  reject  as  well  as  to  accept ;  to  distinguish 
the  normal  from  the  false  development ;  to  detect  the  ele¬ 
ment  of  error  in  the  mass  of  truth,  or  the  element  of  truth 
in  the  mass  of  error.  It  is  not  enough  merely  to  photo¬ 
graph  an  age  ;  to  simply  hold  up  a  mirror  that  passively 
reflects  all  that  occurred.  This  is  the  Chronicle,  but  not 
the  History.  It  is  an  exceedingly  interesting  and  dram¬ 
atic  manner  of  representing  the  past,  and  furnishes  the 
materials  for  the  proper  history.  All  true  history  has 
found  its  stuff  in  this  minute  and  passive  representation 
of  the  chronicle.  Grecian  historv  took  its  beofnnincr  in 
that  body  of  narrative  poems  and  legends  which  extends 
from  Homer  to  Herodotus,  and  though  this  latter  is  styled 
the  father  of  Grecian  history,  yet  the  student  feels,  on 

*  See  his  “  Sylva  Sylvanim,”  and  “  Preparation  for  a  Natural  and 
Experimental  History.” 


196 


THE  IDEA.  OF  EVOLUTION  TEFINED, 


passing  from  that  easy  and  childlike  credulity  which  re¬ 
cords  everything  with  ecpial  seriousness  to  the  searching 
and  philosophic  criticism  of  Thucydides,  that,  with  the 
latter,  the  history,  as  distinguished  from  the  chronicles  of 

'  %J  s  «. _ / 

Greece,  begins.  Homan  history  springs  out  of  the  le¬ 
gends  of  the  monarchical  period,  and  such  annals  as  those 
of  Fabius  Pictor,  and,  we  must  add,  such  narrative  as 
that  of  Livy.  English  history  derives  its  matter  from  the 
prose  and  metrical  chronicles  of  the  monks  from  600  to 
1300.  How  if  it  were  the  great  aim  of  the  historian  to 
merely  depicture  the  past  exactly  as  it  was  upon  its  sur¬ 
face  ;  to  place  the  reader  in  the  process  as  an  actor,  and 
not  above  it  as  a  judge;  certainly  the  chronicle  would  be 
the  true  and  highest  form  of  historic  narrative.  Head 
the  chronicles  of  Froissart,  and  see  with  what  minute 
fidelity  everything  is  related,  and  with  what  dramatic 
vividness  and  interest  the  scenes  of  pacific  and  of  war¬ 
like  life  are  made  to  pass  before  the  mind.  But  why  are 
we  unsatisfied  with  this  account  of  the  contest  between 
France  and  England  in  those  centuries,  and  why  can  we 
not  accept  it  as  history  '{  It  is  because  there  is  in  the 
narrative  none  of  that  discriminating  spirit  which  is  able 
to  elevate  the  important  and  depress  the  unimportant;  to 
let  the  causes  of  events,  the  ideas  and  forces  of  the  period, 
stand  out  with  bold  prominence.  Because,  in  short,  the 
chronicle  teaches  none  of  the  lessons,  and  exhibits  none 
of  the  philosophy,  of  history.* 

It  is  plain  therefore  that  the  historian  must  carry  an 
idea,  a  method,  in  the  phrase  of  Bacon,  a  “  form  of  induc- 

*  “  In  history,  actions  of  honor  and  dishonor  do  appear  plainly  and 
distinctly,  which  is  which  ;  but,  in  the  present  age  they  are  so  dis¬ 
guised,  that  few  there  be,  and  those  very  careful,  that  be  not  grossly 
mistaken  in  them.”  Hobbs1  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  his  Translation  oi 
Thucydides. 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


197 


tion,”  into  the  world  of  human  life,  if  he  would  exhibit 
its  deep  meaning  and  significance.  By  this  he  will  be 
able  to  distinguish  the  causes  from  the  effects,  and  to 
present  them  in  their  proper  proportions  and  relations  to 
each  other ;  to  refer  the  phenomena  to  their  grounds,  and 
make  the  latter  prominent  above  the  former ;  to  condense 
minor  and  unimportant  matter  and  expand  what  is  funda¬ 
mental  ;  and  especially  to  detect  and  show  what  belongs 
to  the  process  of  true  historic  development,  and  what 
does  not. 

The  position  which  we  are  endeavoring  to  establish  has 
been  very  clearly  and  conclusively  stated  by  one  of  the 
most  profound  of  English  writers,  and  we  conclude  this 
introductory  part  of  the  discussion  by  an  extract  from 
him.  u  A  very  common  mode  of  investigating  a  subject,” 
he  savs,  “  is  to  collect  the  facts  and  trace  them  downward 
to  a  general  conclusion.  Now  suppose  the  question  is  as 
to  the  true  essence  and  character  of  the  English  Constitu- 
tion.  Eirst,  where  will  you  begin  your  collection  of 
facts  ?  where  will  you  end  it  ?  What  facts  will  you 
select,  and  how  do  you  know  that  the  class  of  facts  which 
you  select  are  necessary  terms,  and  that  other  classes  of 
facts,  which  you  neglect,  are  not  necessary  ?  And  how  do 
you  distinguish  phenomena  which  proceed  from  disease  or 
accident,  from  those  which  are  the  genuine  fruits  of  the 
essence  of  the  constitution  ?  What  can  be  more  striking, 
in  illustration  of  the  utter  inadequacy  of  this  line  of 
investigation  for  arriving  at  the  real  truth,  than  the  politi¬ 
cal  treatises  and  constitutional  histories  which  wTe  have  in 
every  library  ?  A  Whig  proves  his  case  convincingly  to 
the  reader  who  knows  nothing  beyond  his  author  ;  then 
comes  an  old  Tory  (Carte,  for  instance),  and  ferrets  up  a 
hamperful  of  conflicting  documents  and  notices  which 
prove  his  case  per  coiitra.  A.  takes  this  class  of  facts ; 


198 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

B.  takes  that  class ;  each  proves  something  true,  neither 
proves  the  truth,  or  anything  like  the  truth ;  that  is,  the 
whole  truth. 

We  must,  therefore,  commence  with  the  philosophic 
idea  of  the  thing,  the  true  nature  of  which  we  wish  to 
find  out  and  exhibit.  We  must  carry  our  rule  ready¬ 
made,  if  we  wish  to  measure  aright.  If  you  ask  me  how 
I  can  know  that  this  idea,  my  own  invention  and  pre-con¬ 
ception,  is  the  truth  by  which  the  phenomena  of  history 
are  to  be  explained,  I  answer,  in  the  same  way,  exactly, 
that  you  know  that  your  eves  were  made  to  see  with;  and 
that  is,  because  you  do  see  with  them.  If  I  propose  to 
von  an  idea,  or  self-realizing  theory  of  the  constitution, 
which  shall  manifest  itself  as  an  existence  from  the  ear¬ 
liest  times  to  the  present ;  which  shall  comprehend  within 
it  all  the  facts  which  history  has  preserved,  and  shall  give 
them  a  meaning  as  interchangeably  causes  or  effects, 
principles  or  phenomena  ;  if  I  show  you  that  such  an 
event  or  reign  was  an  obliquity  to  the  right  hand,  and 
how  produced,  and  such  other  event  or  reign  a  deviation 
to  the  left,  and  whence  originating,  that  the  growth  was 
stopped  here,  accelerated  there,  that  such  a  tendency  is, 
and  always  has  been,  corroborative,  and  such  other  ten¬ 
dency  destructive,  of  the  main  progress  of  the  idea 
towards  realization ;  if  this  idea  of  the  English  constitu¬ 
tion,  not  only  like  a  kaleidoscope  shall  reduce  all  the  mis¬ 
cellaneous  fragments  into  order,  but  shall  also  minister 
strength,  and  knowledge,  and  light,  to  the  true  patriot  and 
statesman,  for  working  out  the  bright  thought,  and  bring¬ 
ing  the  glorious  embryo  to  a  perfect  birth — then,  I  think, 
I  have  a  right  to  say  that  the  idea  which  led  to  this  is  not 
only  true,  but  the  truth,  and  the  only  truth  in  the  case. 
To  set  up  for  a  philosophic  historian  upon  the  knowledge 
of  facts  only,  is  about  as  wise  as  to  set  up  for  a  musician, 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


199 


by  the  purchase  of  some  score  of  flutes,  fiddles,  and 
horns.  In  order  to  make  music  you  must  know  how  to 
play;  in  order  to  make  your  facts  speak  truth,  you  must 
know  what  the  truth  is  which  ought  to  be  proved;  the 
ideal  truth  ;  the  truth  which  was  consciously  or  uncon¬ 
sciously,  strongly  or  weakly,  wisely  or  blindly,  intended 
at  all  times.”  * 

What  then  is  the  “  form  of  induction  ”  which  we  are  to 
employ  as  our  method  or  clew,  to  lead  us  through  the 
mighty  maze  of  materials  in  the  history  of  the  Christian 
Church  ?  What  is  the  antecedent  idea,  or  self-verifying 
theory,  with  which  we  are  to  test  and  clarify  the  historical 
data  in  this  department  of  inquiry,  and  how  can  we  be 
certain  that  it  is  the  true  one  \  These  are  the  questions 
now  before  us. 

The  brief  and  most  general  answer  to  them  is,  that  the 
true  idea  of  Christianity  is  the  key  to  the  history  of  the 
Christian  Church,  and  this  true  idea  is  furnished  by  the 

J  <u 

Scriptures. 

We  have  seen,  in  a  previous  section,  that  the  foundation 
of  Christian  History  is  Divine  Revelation  ;  that  the  in¬ 
most  life-power  which  restores  the  true  development  of 
humanity,  and  the  inmost  law  which  regulates  the  pro¬ 
cess,  are  the  influences  of  the  Divine  Spirit  allied  with 
the  doctrines  of  the  Divine  Word.  If  this  is  so,  it  follows 
that  only  revealed  elements  belong  to  the  true  history  of 
the  Church,  and  that  all  that  is  anti-scriptural  should  be 
detected  and  eliminated.  The  test,  consequently,  which 
the  inquirer  is  to  apply  to  the  complex,  and,  as  we  have 
seen,  somewhat  heterogeneous  materials  that  meet  him  on 
all  sides,  is  the  test  of  the  written  revelation.  We  have 
seen  that  the  process  of  restoring  a  lost  normal  develop- 

*  Coleridge’s  Table  Talk  (slightly  altered).  Works.  VI.,  pp.  443-444 
Harper’s  Ed. 


200 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


ment  is  a  dual  one,  because  the  expulsion  of  the  relics  of 
a  false  germ  is  going  on  contemporaneously.  The  history 
of  the  Church  is  imperfectly  normal,  not  entirely  sym¬ 
metrical,  frequently  interrupted,  and  nearer  perfection  as 
a  whole  than  in  sections.  This  would  not  be  the  case  if 
the  infallible  and  perfect  revelation  of  God  had  found  a 
full  realization  of  itself  in  the  Church.  It  follows,  conse¬ 
quently,  that  this  very  revelation  itself  is  to  be  used  as  the 
u  form  of  induction,”  the  antecedent  norm  or  rule,  by 
which  conformity  and  agreement  are  to  be  indicated  and 
approved,  and  by  which  deviations  and  contrariety  are  to 
be  detected  and  rejected.  In  short,  the  student  of  Church 
history  is  to  provide  his  mind  with  the  Biblical  idea  of 
Christianity,  and  to  use  it  rigorously,  as  the  crucial  test, 
while  he  examines  the  materials ;  while  he  examines  the 
forms  of  polity  and  of  worship,  the  varieties  of  orthodox 
and  heretical  doctrinal  statement,  the  methods  of  defend¬ 
ing  Christianity,  the  modes  of  extending  Christianity 
among  unchristianized  nations,  the  styles  of  life  and 
morals,  the  specimens  of  individual  Christian  character. 
Through  all  this  complex  and  perplexing  mass  of  historical 
matter,  the  true  Scriptural  idea  and  theory  of  Christianity 
is  to  conduct  the  investigator,  so  that  he  may  see  the  true 
meaning  and  worth  of  the  facts  and  phenomena,  and  set  a 
proper  estimate  upon  each.  That  we  may  see  the  imper¬ 
ative  need  of  some  such  guide,  let  us  look  at  a  single  class 
of  phenomena  ;  a  single  series  of  facts.  We  find  a  polity, 
a  church  constitution,  in  all  the  ages  of  the  Church.  There 
is  the  Jewish  clmrch-constitution ;  then  the  exceedingly 
slight  and  almost  invisible  constitution  of  the  Apostolic 
church  of  the  first  forty  or  fifty  years  after  the  death  of 
Christ ;  then  the  more  consolidated  republicanism  of  the 
close  of  the  first  and  the  beginning  of  the  second  century  ; 
then  the  dim  beginnings  of  the  episcopate,  followed  by  the 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


201 


established  primacy  of  the  Homan  bishop  in  the  'Western 
church,  and  of  the  Constantinopolitan  bishop  in  the  East¬ 
ern  ;  then  the  absolute  monarchy  of  the  Romish  pope, 
and  the  ecclesiastical  despotism  of  the  mediaeval  polity  ; 
then,  since  the  Reformation,  the  revival  of  all  but  the  last 
of  these  forms  of  polity  in  the  various  branches  of  the 
Protestant  church,  together  with  the  continuance  of  the 
Papacy  and  the  Patriarchate. 

Here,  now,  is  a  mass  of  conflicting  facts  and  phenom¬ 
ena,  upon  which  it  is  necessary  to  form  a  truly  historic 
judgment.  It  is  not  enough  to  take  the  position  of  the 
annalist  and  chronicler,  and  simply  exhibit  the  facts,  with¬ 
out  any  philosophic  estimate  of  their  intrinsic  and  relative 
yalue.  Neither  is  it  enough  to  give  a  vivid  and  dramatic 
picture  of  all  these  features  and  parts  of  the  total  process, 
and  nothing  more.  The  historian  must  set  a  proper  esti¬ 
mate  upon  each  and  all,  and  deliver  a  judgment  regarding 
them.  lie  must  say  and  show  which  of  these  forms  of 
ecclesiastical  polity  is  most  congruous  with  the  spiritual 
nature  of  Christianity.  lie  must  be  able  to  say  and  show 
which  of  them  deviates  most  from  the  general  Christian 
idea  of  church  government,  and  which  is  positively  con¬ 
trary  to  it.  He  must  be  able  to  sav  and  show  which  grew 
out  of  a  false  and  corrupted  apprehension  of  Christianity, 
and  so  tended  to  perpetuate  the  error  in  which  it  had  its 
own  birth. 

But  how  can  he  say  and  show  all  this,  in  reference  to 
this  mass  of  historical  facts  and  phenomena,  and  how  can 
he  say  and  show  the  same  in  reference  to  the  whole  entire 
mass  of  historical  materials,  if  he  has  not  clear  and  bright 
in  his  own  mind  the  true  idea  and  theory  of  Christian¬ 
ity  itself:  that  Divine  idea  which  is  to  be  seen  struggling 
for  realization  through  all  this  ocean  of  elements ;  that 
Divine  theory  which  is  being  executed  feebly  in  this  sec- 


202 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 


tion  and  powerfully  in  that,  which  is  resisted  in  this  age, 
and  cherished  in  that,  but  which,  in  the  entire  sequence 
of  ages  and  the  whole  sweep  of  years,  is  going  on  con¬ 
quering  and  to  conquer  ?  And  how  is  he  to  have  this  idea 
and  theory  clear  and  bright  in  his  mind,  leading  it  like 
the  Beatrice  of  Dante  through  the  Hell  Purgatory  and 
Paradise  of  History,  except  as  he  derives  it  from  the  fixed 
and  unchanging  written  revelation,  in  which  it  is  dis¬ 
tinctly  enunciated  and  explained  1 

We  say  distinctly  enunciated  and  explained  ;  for  not 
withstanding  the  difficulty  of  interpreting  certain  portions 
of  the  scriptures,  and  the  many  controversies  that  have 
arisen  within  the  church,  respecting  the  real  mind  of  the 
Spirit,  the  written  revelation  so  plainly  teaches  one  gen¬ 
eral  system  of  religion,  that  its  prominent  and  distinctive 
features  are  to  be  seen  in  each  and  all  of  the  various  forms 
of  evangelical  doctrine  that  have  appeared  in  the  Church 
Universal.  Even  when  this  general  system  is  overloaded 
with  human  inventions  and  additions  which  positively 
contradict  and  nullify  it,  or  tend  to  crush  it  to  death  by 
their  materialism,  there  is  sometimes  enough  of  it  still  left 
to  show  that  the  original  formers  of  a  symbol  were 
nearer  the  Biblical  system  than  their  successors,  and 
found  less  difficulty  in  detecting  in  the  Bible  a  common 
teaching  and  creed.  The  creed  of  the  Papal  church, 
though  not  evangelical  upon  the  distinctively  evangelical 
doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  is  yet  in  advance  of  the 
present  religious  character  and  teaching  of  that  bodjT,  be¬ 
cause  it  still  retains  some  of  those  scriptural  elements  that 
were  incorporated  into  it  in  the  better  days  of  this  church. 
And  hence  in  modern  times — since  the  Protestant  Defor¬ 
mation,  and  undoubtedlv  under  the  influence  that  has 
radiated  from  the  scriptural  faith  and  purer  practice  of 
the  Protestant  churches — men  like  Pascal,  and  parties  like 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


203 


the  Jansenists,  have  endeavored  to  effect  a  reform  within 
the  Homan  Catholic  communion,  by  cutting  off  the  ex¬ 
crescences  of  tradition,  and  letting  the  original  scriptural 
stock,  imperfect  as  it  was,  grow  on  by  itself.  All  the  at¬ 
tempts  at  reform  within  a  corrupt  Christianity  like  that  of 
the  Romish  and  the  Greek  church,  are  implied  proofs,  and 
tacit  confessions,  that  the  written  revelation  is  clear  and 
unambiguous  in  its  general  teachings.  For  there  could  be 
no  endeavors  to  get  back  to  a  conformity  with  an  original 
directory,  like  the  scriptures,  unless  it  were  believed  that 
there  is  such  an  one,  and  that  its  directions  are  plain  to  the 
candid  and  truth-seeking  mind.  As  matter  of  fact  the  sym¬ 
bols  of  the  various  churches  are  nearer  to  each  other  than 
their  theological  tracts  and  treatises  are,  because  they  are 
derived  more  immediately  from  scripture  data :  the 
Bible  being  not  only  a  unity,  but  unifying  in  its  in¬ 
ti  uence. 

Hence  we  say  that  the  idea  of  Christianity,  which  the 
inquirer  is  to  take  with  him  into  Church  History,  can  be, 
and  must  be,  derived  from  the  scriptures  themselves  and 
alone.  If  it  were  a  secular  historic  process,  the  precon¬ 
ceived  idea  need  not  necessarily  be  derived  from  a  super¬ 
natural  revelation.  In  the  instance  of  the  English  Consti¬ 
tution,  cited  above,  the  investigator  takes  a  purely  human 
idea  with  him,  as  he  follows  the  constitutional  history  of 
England  down  from  age  to  age.  This  idea  is  no  other 
than  that  organic  law  of  the  realm,  of  which  jurists  speak, 
and  which  is  not  to  be  referred  to  a  specially  supernatural 
source,  but  to  the  spontaneous  operation  of  the  natural 
reason  of  man.  The  same  is  true  of  all  Secular,  as  distin¬ 
guished  from  Christian  history.  The  inquirer  is  not  in  the 
region  of  the  Supernatural,  and  hence,  although  the  light 
that  is  thrown  upon  profane  history  by  the  Divine  revela¬ 
tion  is  indispensable  to  seeing  its  deeper  and  more  solemn 


204 


TIIE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

significance,  it  is  yet  not  the  sole  light  in  which  it  must  be 
viewed. 

But  in  Church  History  the  light  of  revelation  is  the  sole 
light  by  which  to  see,  and  the  revealed  idea  and  theory  is 
the  sole  preconception  by  which  the  mind  of  the  inquirer 
is  to  he  guided,  lie  who  reads  the  history  of  the  Church 
in  the  light  of  that  Divine  truth  which  lies  at  its  founda¬ 
tion  will  not  read  amiss.  lie  who  constructs  the  facts,  and 
builds  up  the  account,  by  the  method  and  plan  furnished 
by  the  written  word,  will  rear  the  structure  in  its  true 
proportions.  lie  who  takes  scriptural  Christianity  as  the 
“  form  of  induction  ”  by  which  the  true  elements  are  to 
be  discovered,  and  wrought  into  the  account,  and  the 
false  elements  are  to  be  detected,  and  expelled  from  it ; 
the  “form  of  induction by  which  the  tests  are  to  be  ap¬ 
plied  to  all  the  facts  and  phenomena,  and  the  correspond¬ 
ing  adoptions  and  rejections  of  good  and  bad  materials 
are  to  be  made  ;  he  who  rigorously  applies  this  scriptural 
idea  will  investigate  the  history  of  the  Church  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  convey  the  real  lessons  which  it  teaches. 
All  ecclesiastical  history  composed  in  such  a  manner  will 
be  catholic  and  exactly  true.  It  will  not  be  made  to  serve 
the  interests  of  any  particular  sect,  for  it  will  impartially, 
as  do  the  scriptures  themselves,  expose  all  deviations  from 
the  truth  of  God,  though  within  its  own  sphere,  while  it 
will  faithfully  report  and  depict  all  conformity  to  that 
truth,  in  vdiatever  age  or  country  it  may  be  found. 

And  this  brings  to  our  notice,  the  necessary  and  natural 
connection  between  Church  History  and  Dogmatic  The¬ 
ology.  The  two  sciences  are  reciprocally  related,  and 
mutually  influence  each  other.  For  this  pre-conception, 
derived  from  the  scriptures,  of  the  nature  of  Christianity, 
whose  leading  Church  History  follows,  is,  for  substance, 
that  doctrinal  system  which  the  theological  mind  has 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


205 


formed  by  the  scientific  study  of  the  written  revelation. 
Notwithstanding  all  professions  to  the  contrary,  every 
writer  of  ecclesiastical  history,  as  well  as  of  secular,  has 
his  own  stand-point  and  view-point.  This  can  be  inferred 
from  the  spirit  and  teachings  of  his  work,  as  unmistakably 
as  the  position  of  the  draughtsman  can  be  inferred  from 
the  perspective  of  his  picture.  Who  can  mistake  the  poli¬ 
tical,  philosophical,  and  theological  ideas  which  Hume 
carried  with  him  from  tire  beginning  to  the  end  of  his 
history  of  England?  Would  a  Liberal  theory  in  politics,  a 
Platonizing  instead  of  a  Pyrrhonizing  mental  philosophy, 
and  a  Christian  instead  of  a  Deistic  theology,  have  read 
the  facts  in  the  career  of  the  English  state  and  church  as 
he  has  read  them  ?  Who  cannot  see  the  difference  be¬ 
tween  the  rationalistic  and  the  supranaturalistic  conception 
of  the  Christian  religion,  as  he  reads  the  ecclesiastical 
histories  of  Sender  and  Ilenke  on  the  one  hand,  and  those 
of  Mosheim  and  Neander  on  the  other  ?  In  all  ages  the 
written  history  of  Christianitv  is  very  greatly  affected  and 
modified  by  the  prevailing  theological  spirit  and  bent  of 
the  historian. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  dogmatic  theology  is  greatly 
:  ffeeted  and  modified  by  the  history  of  the  Church.  Creeds 
and  systems  that  are  formed  without  much  knowledge  of 

t  (i 

past  symbolism,  are  apt  to  differ,  sometimes  in  minor  and 
sometimes  in  essential  respects,  from  creeds  and  systems 
that  breathe  a  historic  spirit.  Thus  the  relation  between 
the  two  sciences  of  theology  and  history  is  not  that  of  mere 
cause  and  effect,  in  which  the  activity  is  all  on  one  side, 
and  the  passivity  all  on  the  other.  It  is  rather  an  organic 
relation,  of  action  and  reaction,  in  which  both  are  causes 
and  both  are  effects,  both  are  active  agents  and  both  are 
passive  recipients. 

But,  in  this  connection,  it  is  important  to  notice,  that 


206 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

the  Scriptures  stand  above  both  theology  and  history,  as 
the  infallible  and  unchanging  rule  by  which  both  are  to 
receive  their  ultimate  formation.  We  assume,  and  believe 
we  are  correct  in  so  doing,  that  the  systematic  theology 
which  the  Christian  mind  has  derived  from  the  written 
word  agrees  with  the  real  teaching  of  this  unerring  source 
of  religious  truth.  Still,  the  scientific  Christian  mind  is 
not  infallible,  and  it  is  possible  for  it  to  deviate  from  the 
matter  of  Scripture.  Hence  the  need  of  a  continual 
reference  and  recurrence  to  revelation,  on  the  part  of 
dogmatic  theology.  Again,  the  experimental  conscious¬ 
ness  of  these  doctrines  in  the  mental  and  moral  life  of  the 
Church  is  not  of  necessity  and  bevond  all  possibility  of  de- 
viation  a  perfect  and  normal  experience.  This  historic 
Christian  life  needs  the  guidance,  and  often  the  rectifica¬ 
tion,  of  the  revealed  cannon.  N either  dogmatic  theology 
nor  the  historic  movement  of  the  Christian  mind  can  safe¬ 
ly  be  left  to  themselves,  without  any  protection  from  the 
written  word.  Even  if  each  should  be  carried  along  for  a 
time  by  its  own  momentum  upon  the  right  line,  the  side 
influences  of  the  remaining  corruption  and  darkness  of 
human  nature  would  soon  begin  to  draw  it  aside,  and  the 
deduction  would  soon  be  plain  and  great.  The  actual 
career  of  some  branches  of  the  Church  proves  that  unless 
there  is  a  constant  recurrence  to  the  written  word,  both  in 
theoretical  and  practical  theology,  a  corruption  of  both 
theory  and  practice  is  the  natural  result.  Those  who 
would  substitute  tradition  and  the  voice  of  the  Church  for 
the  Scriptures,  as  well  as  those  who  would  substitute  the 
Christian  consciousness  itself  for  them,  commit  the  same 
error  in  common.  The  Humanist  and  the  Mystic  are 
really  upon  one  and  the  same  ground,  and  are  equally  ex¬ 
posed  to  that  corruption  of  Christianity  to  which  every 
human  mind  is  liable  which  does  not  place  the  Scriptures 


AXD  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


207 


above  both  the  teachings  of  history  and  the  Christian  con¬ 
sciousness,  whenever  the  question  concerns  an  ultimate 
and  infallible  source  of  religious  knowledge. 

While,  therefore,  we  believe  that  Ecclesiastical  History, 
both  as  it  occurs  and  as  it  is  written,  is  modified  by  the 
theology  which  prevails,  and  the  theology  which  prevails 
is  in  turn  modified  by  the  knowledge  of  the  past  history 
of  the  church,  we  also  believe,  that  the  two  cannot  safely 
be  left  to  their  own  inter-agency,  and  inter-penetration, 
unless  both  are  all  the  time  feeling  the  influences  of  the 
infallible  revelation  in  which  they  both  have  their  origin. 
Two  streams  may  mix  and  mingle  never  so  thoroughly, 

%j  o  CD  ' 

yet,  unless  the  fountain  is  constantly  pouring  into  them, 
their  own  mere  motion  cannot  keep  them  pure,  any  more 
than  it  can  keep  their  volume  full.  The  idea  of  Christi¬ 
anity  is  therefore  to  be  kept  full,  pure,  and  bright,  in  the 
head  of  the  theologian  and  in  the  heart  of  the  Christian, 
by  the  written  word,  which  has  been  preserved  for  the 
Church,  in  order  that,  amid  all  the  grades  of  knowledge 
and  consequent  varieties  of  experience  that  might  arise 
within  it,  there  might  be  a  rule  of  faith  and  practice 
which,  like  its  Author,  should  be  without  variableness  or 
shadow  of  turning  ;  because  what  is  written  is  written. 

Bv  thus  finding  the  Baconian  u  form  of  induction,”  or 
ultimate  interpreting  idea,  for  Church  History,  in  the 
Scriptures  solely,  yet  not  refusing  to  employ  the  helps  for 
understanding  them  afforded  by  the  general  theology,  and 
the  general  religious  experience  of  the  Church  Universal, 
we  avoid  that  fault  which  we  regard  as  on  the  whole  the 
most  serious  defect  in  Schleiermacher  and  his  school ;  the 
fault,  namely,  of  an  undue  subjectivity.  For  this  school, 
the  Christian  experience,  or  “  consciousness,”  has  a  worth 
and  importance  in  both  dogmatic  and  historic  construc¬ 
tions  to  which  it  is  not  entitled.  In  the  reaction  against 


20S 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED, 

the  dead  orthodoxy  of  the  eighteenth  century,  they  have 
practically  undervalued  the  written  objective  revelation. 
We  sav  practically,  because  in  theory  they  adopt  the  Prot- 
estant  maxim  that  the  Bible  is  the  only  infallible  rule  of 

c / 

faith  and  practice.  Yet  the  student  of  a  theological  sys¬ 
tem  like  that  of  Sclileiermaeher,  and  a  history  like  that  of 
Neander,  finds  that  the  organization  of  the  former  and 
the  construction  of  the  latter  are  actually  determined 

c / 

more  by  an  appeal  to  the  living  consciousness  of  the 
Church  than  to  the  written  word  of  God.  The  doctrinal 
development  in  the  one  representation,  and  the  historical 
development  in  the  other,  is  too  much  a  self-determination 
of  the  Christian  mind  and  soul  with  too  little  reference  to 
the  correcting  and  regulating  influence  of  that  Divine 
Truth  in  which  all  Christian  experience  must  find  its  norm. 
The  historian  does  not  exhibit  with  sufficient  fulness,  the 
influence  which  the  inspired  canon  has  exerted  upon  the 
unfolding  of  the  Christian  life.  The  process  of  Sacred  His¬ 
tory  is  regarded,  too  much,  as  self-directed.  lienee,  the 
general  undervaluation  of  dogmatic  statements  as  cramp¬ 
ing  the  movement  of  the  free  Christian  spirit,  the  leniency 
towards  certain  heretical  tendencies,  and  the  occasional 
hesitating  tone  as  well  as  vagueness  of  vision  in  respect 
to  scientific  orthodoxy,  which  characterize  the  best  com- 
plete  history  of  the  Christian  religion  and  church  that  has 
vet  been  written. 

t/ 

What  is  needed  is,  more  objectivity;  more  moulding 
bv  that  fixed  Object,  that  unchangeable  Word,  whose 
function  it  is  to  form  the  changing  experience  by  its  own 
fixedness  and  immutability.  Consciousness  cannot  be  an 
absolute  and  final  norm  for  consciousness.  It  is  the  object 
of  consciousness,  by  which  the  process  of  consciousness  is 
to  be  shaped  and  determined.  As  that  subjectire  process 
of  faith  and  of  feeling  which  is  seen  in  the  Christian 


AND  APPLIED  TO  HISTORY. 


209 


Church  owes  its  very  existence  to  the  objective  revelation, 
so  it  must  be  kept  pure  from  corruption  and  error  by  the 
same,  and  be  criticised  and  estimated  by  the  same.  To 
leave  the  process  to  test  itself,  and  to  protect  itself  from 
corruption,  is  not  safe.  An  individual  Christian  who 
should  trust  to  the  feelings  of  even  a  regenerate  heart, 
and  the  inward  light  of  even  a  renewed  mind,  without 
continually  comparing  this  subjective  feeling  and  knowl¬ 
edge  with  the  written  word,  would  be  the  victim  of  a  de¬ 
teriorating,  and,  probably  in  the  end,  an  irrational  and 
fanatical  experience.  Much  more  then,  is  it  unsafe  to 
set  up  the  Christian  experience,  as  the  ultimate  source 
of  Christian  science  and  the  final  test  of  Christian 
development,  either  in  the  particular  or  in  the  universal 
Church. 

Hence  the  Church  historian  must  guard  against  two  ex¬ 
tremes.  He  must  not,  with  the  nationalist,  magnify  the 
individual  reason  and  the  private  judgment,  to  the  dispar¬ 
agement  of  the  general  reason  and  judgment  of  the 
Universal  Church,  by  disregarding  or  despising  the  his¬ 
toric  faith  and  the  historic  experience.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  must  not  with  the  Homan  Catholic  seek  the  ulti¬ 
mate  source  of  religious  knowledge  in  a  tradition  theoret- 
ically  co-ordinated  with  revelation  but  practically  supreme 
over  it,  nor  with  the  Mystic  Theology  attempt  to  find  it  in 
a  “  Christian  consciousness  ”  which,  like  all  forms  of  con¬ 
sciousness,  is  fugacious  and  shifting,  and  therefore  liable 
to  deterioration.  These  two  extremes,  involving  three 
species  of  subjectivity,  that  of  nationalism,  that  of  Ho- 
manism,  and  that  of  Mysticism,  will  be  avoided  by  him 
who  does  not  regard  either  the  individual  or  the  general 
Christian  mind  as  upon  an  equality,  in  any  sense,  with 
the  Scriptures,  but  believes  that  both  the  individual  and 
the  Church,  in  all  ages,  are  to  be  subjected,  both  in 


210 


THE  IDEA  OF  EVOLUTION  DEFINED. 


respect  to  doctrine  and  experience,  to  the  tests  of  a  wis¬ 
dom  more  unerring  than  that  of  the  best  and  wisest  of 
human  minds  or  of  human  societies  :  the  wisdom  of  an  in¬ 
fallible  inspiration. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN* 


DTE  CHRISTLICHE  LEHRE  VOX  DER  SUNDE,  DARGESTELLT 

VON  JULIUS  MULLER. 

We  have  placed  the  title  of  this  work  of  Miiller  at  the 
head  of  our  article,  not  for  the  purpose  of  entering  into 
an  analysis  and  criticism  of  it  at  this  time,  but  rather,  as 
a  strong  and  convenient  shelter  under  which  to  labor 
upon  the  much  vexed  and  much  vexing  doctrine  of  Ori¬ 
ginal  Sin.  We  are  the  more  inclined  to  connect  our  re¬ 
flections  upon  this  subject  with  this  work,  in  even  this 
slight  and  external  manner,  first,  because  they  coincide 
substantially  with  what  we  suppose  to  be  the  general 
theory  presented  in  this  thorough  and  thoroughly  elabo¬ 
rated  treatise,  though  differing  from  it,  as  may  be  seen,  on 
the  point  of  the  nature  of  the  connection  of  the  individual 
with  Adam,  and  by  such  other  modifications  as  would 
naturally  result  from  considering  the  subject  from  other 
points  of  view,  and  with  reference  to  questions  current 
among  a  theological  public,  differing  very  considerably 
from  that  in  the  midst  of  which  this  work  originated ; 
and,  secondly,  because  it  gives  us  countenance  in  the 

*  Reprinted  from  the  Christian  Review,  Jan.  1852. 


212  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SEN. 

attempt  to  investigate  the  doctrine  from  a  metaphysical, 
and  not  merely  psychological,  position.  For  it  is  the 
misfortune  of  the  theology  in  vogue  for  the  last  hundred 
years,  as  it  seems  to  us,  that  sin  has  been  contemplated 
in  its  phenomenal  aspects,  rather  than  in  its  hidden 
sources.  The  majority  of  treatises  that  have  been  writ¬ 
ten  upon  this  subject  since  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  have  been  occupied  principally  with  conscious , 
and  (technically  so  called)  actual  transgression  ;  while 
sin,  in  the  form  of  a  nature,  deeper  than  consciousness, 
and  the  very  fountain  of  all  consciousness  itself,  on  this 
subject,  has  too  generally  been  neglected.  While,  there¬ 
fore,  the  psychology  of  sin  has  been  diligently  investi¬ 
gated,  and  with  as  much  success  as  could  have  been  ex¬ 
pected  under  the  circumstances,  the  metaphysical  side  of 
the  doctrine  has  made  little  or  no  progress.  If  we  turn  to 
the  treatises  of  an  elder  day — to  the  doctrinal  statements 
on  this  subject  of  Augustine  or  Calvin,  or  Turretine,  or 
Owen,  or  the  elder  Edwards — we  find  the  reverse  to  be 
the  fact.  Here  the  essence  of  sin  is  regarded  as  a  na¬ 
ture,  or  state  of  the  soul,  which  manifests  itself  in  a  con¬ 
scious  and  actual  transgression  that  derives  all  its  ma¬ 
lignity  and  guilt  from  this,  its  deeper  source.  With  this 
source  itself — this  metaphysical  ground  of  the  psycholo¬ 
gical  or  conscious  transgression — the  profound  intellect 
and  acute  speculation  of  these  men  were  chiefly  occu¬ 
pied,  knowing  that  if  all  the  contradiction  and  all  the 
mystery  on  this  difficult  doctrine,  could  be  cleared  up  at 
this  point,  the  question  would  be  settled  once  for  all. 
Instead,  however,  of  advancing  in  the  general  line  of  ad¬ 
vance,  marked  and  deeply  scored  into  all  the  best  theo¬ 
logy  of  the  past,  the  theological  mind  for  the  last  cen¬ 
tury  has  stopped  short,  as  it  seems  to  us,  and  has  con¬ 
tented  itself  with  investigating  the  mere  superficies  of 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


213 


the  subject — ignoring,  and  in  some  instances  denying, 

the  existence  of  its  solid  substance.  The  effect  of  this 

\ 

species  of  theologizing  is  every  way  deleterious.  In  the 
first  place,  the  problem  itself  can  never  be  solved  by  this 
method,  any  more  than  the  mystery  of  life  can  be  made 
clearer  bv  a  mere  examination  of  the  leaves  and  blossoms 
of  a  tree  The  creed  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  origin¬ 
al  sin  has  made  no  advance  since  the  statement  made  in 
1643,  by  the  Westminster  Assembly.  There  has  been 
much  acute  and  intense  speculation  upon  the  doctrine 
since  that  time, — for  mysterious  as  it  is,  and  repulsive  as 
it  is,  to  fallen  human  nature,  it  will  ever  charm  like  the 
serpent’s  eye, — but  we  know  of  no  distinct  and  strict 
wording  of  the  doctrine  made  since  then,  that  contains  a 
fuller  and  clearer  and  less  contradictory  statement  than 
that  of  the  Catechism.  It  is  plain,  that  there  will  be  no 
“  progress  in  Theology  ”  by  this  route.  In  the  second 
place,  this  neglect  of  the  sinful  nature,  and  this  fasten¬ 
ing  of  the  eye  upon  the  sinful  exercises  only,  is  greatly 
injurious  to  the  interests  of  practical  religion.  The  at¬ 
tention  of  man  is  directed  to  the  mere  surface  of  his 
character.  His  eye  is  not  made  to  penetrate  into  what 
he  is,  because  he  is  constantly  occupied  with  what  he 
does.  The  standard  of  character  itself  is  lowered  ;  while, 
as  all  church  history  shows,  the  grade  of  character  act¬ 
ually  reached  is  far  lower  than  that  attained  on  another 
theory  and  view  of  sin. 

Finally,  less  unanimity  among  theologians  is  the  na¬ 
tural  result  of  this  neglect  of  the  metaphysical  side  of 
the  doctrine  of  sin.  We  know  that  it  is  one  of  the  most 
popular  of  fallacies,  that  nothing  is  less  settled  than 
metaphysics, — that  the  brain  of  a  thorough-bred  meta¬ 
physician  is  as  confused  as  his  heart,  according  to  Burke, 
is  hard.  Still,  in  the  face  of  the  fallacy,  we  re-afffrm 


214 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


that  nothing  but  a  return  to  the  old  ground  occupied  by 
the  combatants  of  an  earlier  day,  will  enable  theologians 
to  range  themselves  into  two,  and  only  two,  divisions, 
instead  of  the  present  variety  of  “  schools,”  whose  name 
is  legion.  The  questions  that  arise,  and  the  answers  that 
are  compelled,  by  a  metaphysical  method,  as  distinguished 
from  a  merely  empirical  one,  locate  the  theologian,  on  one 
side  or  the  other  of  the  line  ;  because,  by  this  method, 
terms  are  used  in  their  strict  signification,  and  the  con¬ 
ceptions  denoted  by  them  are  distinct. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  the  term  “  sinful,”  when  ap¬ 
plied  to  the  nature  of  fallen  man,  instead  of  being 
employed  in  the  sense  of  “  innocent,”  as  it  sometimes  is 
at  the  present  day,  had  but  the  one  uniform  and  constant 
signification  of  “  guilty,” —  would  not  all  who  hold  and 
teach  the  doctrine  of  a  sinful  nature  see  eye  to  eye  on 
that  point  ?  Suppose  again,  that  the  word  “  imputation  ” 
were  employed  to  denote  the  charge  of  guilt  upon  the 
absolutely  guilty,  and  never  an  arbitrary  charge  of  any 
sort,  —  would  not  all  who  hold  to  the  imputation  of  a 
sinful  nature  be  at  one  on  this  point  ?  And  yet  the  loose 
use  of  these  and  kindred  terms,  and  the  multiplication  of 
schools  in  theology  thereby,  can  be  prevented  only  by 
that  method  of  investigation  which  passes  by  all  mani¬ 
festations  and  phenomena,  and  having  reached  the 
nature  itself,  asks  —  is  it  innocent,  or  is  it  culpable  ?  —  is 
this  nature  as  justly  and  properly  imputable,  and  so,  as 
worthy  of  punishment,  in  the  case  of  the  individual,  as 
of  Adam,  or  is  it  not?  Here  the  subject  lies  in  a  nut¬ 
shell  ;  and  while  the  “  yea,  yea,”  locates  the  theologian 
on  one  side  of  the  line  first  sharply  drawn  in  the  days  of 
Augustine,  and  the  “  nay,  nay,”  locates  him  on  the  other 
side,  what  is  still  better,  this  strict  handling  of  terms 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


215 


leads  to  a  deeper  and  more  satisfactory  enucleation  and 
establishment  of  the  truth  itself. 

For,  if  a  man  affirm  that  the  fallen  nature  is  sin  itself 
and  not  the  mere  occasion  of  sin ;  is  guilt  itself,  and  not 
the  mere  occasion  of  guilt;  and  also,  that  all  this  is  as 
true  of  the  posterity  of  Adam  as  of  the  individual  Adam 
himself,  fie  is  not  only  bound  to  explain  this  on  rational 
grounds,  but  he  is  driven  to  the  attempt  to  explain  it  by 
the  inevitable  movement  of  his  own  mind.  And  this 
was  the  case  with  the  men  whom  we  have  mentioned. 
They  never  shrank  from  affirming  that  the  ultimate  form 
of  sin  is  a  nature,  that  this  nature  is  guilt,  and  that  the 
wrath  of  God  justly  rests  upon  every  individual  of  the 
human  race  because  of  it.  And  when  pressed  with  the 
difficulties  that  beset  this,  and  every  other  one  of  the 
“  deep  things  of  God,?’  by  as  acute  and  able  opponents 
as  the  world  has  ever  seen,  instead  of  relaxing  the  state¬ 
ment,  or  betaking  themselves  to  a  loose  and  equivocal 
use  of  words,  they  stuck  to  terms,  and  endeavored  to 
think  through,  and  establish,  on  philosophical  grounds,  a 
form  of  doctrine  which  they  first  and  heartily  adopted, 
on  experimental  and  Scriptural  grounds.  We  do  not 
say  that  they  completely  solved  the  problem,  but  we 
verily  believe  that  they  were  in  the  way  of  its  solution, 
and  that  theological  speculation  must  join  on  where  they 
left  off,  and  move  forward  in  their  line  of  advance.  No 
one  age,  however  wise  and  learned,  can  furnish  a  finished 
Theology  for  all  the  ages  to  come ;  but  if  we  would 
have  substantial  advance,  each  and  every  age  must  be  in 
communication  with  the  wisdom  and  truth  of  the  pre¬ 
ceding,  and  form  a  piece  of  continuity  with  it. 

Returning  to  this  point  of  unanimity,  consider  for  a 
moment  the  variety  of  opinions  among  us  in  regard  to 


216 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


this  subject  of  a  sinful  nature.  What  divisions  and  con¬ 
troversies  exist  among  those  who  all  alike  profess  to  be 
Calvinists !  How  little  unanimity  exists  upon  this  doctrine 
among  those  who  all  alike  repel  the  charge  of  Arminian- 
ism !  One  portion  or  school  teach,  that  there  is  a  cor¬ 
rupt  nature  in  man,  but  deny  that  it  is  really  and  strictly 
sinful.  Another  portion  or  school  teach,  that  there  is  a 
nature  in  man  to  which  the  epithet  “  sinful  ”  is  properly 
applied,  who  yet,  when  pressed  with  the  inquiry  —  is  it 
crime  ^  and  deserving  of  the  wrath  of  God?  —  shrink  from 
the  right  answer,  and  return  an  uncertain  sound,  of  which 
the  substance  is,  that  its  contrariety  to  law,  and  not  its 
voluntariness,  is  the  essence  of  sin.  Again,  there  are 
those  who  are  prepared  to  fall  back  upon  the  ground  of 
the  elder  Calvinists,  up  to  a  certain  point,  but  who 
resolve  the  whole  matter  when  pressed  by  their  opponents, 
into  the  arbitrary  will  and  sovereignty  of  God,  and  depre¬ 
cate  all  attempts  to  construct  the  doctrine  on  grounds  of 
reason  and  philosophy.  And  finally,  there  are  some  who 
are  inclined  not  only  to  the  doctrinal  statement  of  Augus¬ 
tine  and  Owen  and  the  elder  Edwards,  but  also  to  their 
method  of  establishing  and  defending  it,  by  means  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  real  oneness  of  Adam  and  his  posterity, 
in  the  fall  of  the  human  soul.  And  yet  Calvinism  is  one 
in  its  nature  and  theory.  Using  this  term  to  denote  not 
merely  that  particular  scheme  of  Christian  doctrine  drawn 
up  by  Calvin,  but  that  doctrinal  system  which  had  its 
origin  in  the  controversy  of  Augustine  with  Pelagius, 
and  which  received  a  further  development  through  the 
reformed  theologians  on  the  continent,  and  the  puritan 
divines  of  England,  we  may  say  that  Calvinism  teaches 
but  one  tiling  in  regard  to  the  existence  of  a  sinful  nature 
in  fallen  man,  and  but  one  thing  in  regard  to  the  mean¬ 
ing  of  the  term  sinful.  During  those  ages  of  controversy 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


21.7 


—  the  16th  and  17th  centuries  —  those  who  held  the 
doctrine  of  a  sinful  nature,  and  of  a  sinful  nature  that  is 
guilt,  stood  upon  one  side,  and  stood  all  together  ;  and 
those  who  rejected  this  doctrine  stood  upon  the  other 
side,  and  also  stood  all  together.*  The  Christian  church 


*  This  is  evident  from  the  symbols  of  the  three  great  divisions  of  the 
modern  Protestant  church,  viz:  the  Lutheran,  the  Reformed  ( Calvinistic), 
and  the  Puritan. 

Item  docent,  quod  post  lapsum  Adae  omnes  homines,  secundum  naturam 
propagati,  nascantur  cum  peccato.  hoc  est,  sine  metu  Dei,  sine  fiducia  erga 
Deum.  et  cum  concupiscentia,  quodque  hie  morbus ,  seu  vitium  originis  vere  sit 
peccatum,  damnans  et  afferens  ueternam  mortem. 

Damnant  Pelagianos  et  alios,  qui  vitium  originis  negant  esse  peccatum. 
Confessio  Augustana,  Articulus  II. 

Est  peccatum  originis  corruptio  totius  naturae,  et  vitium  hereditarium, 

*  #  *  #  *  estque  tam  foedum  atque  execrabile  coram  Deo.ut  ad  univer- 

si  generis  humani  condemnationem  sufficiat.  Confessio  Belgica,  Articulus  XV. 

Peccatum  originis,  est  vitium  et  depravatio  naturae  cuiuslibet  hominis  ex 
Adamo  naturaliter  propagati,  qua  fitut  ab  originali  justitia  quam  longissime 
distet,  ad  malum  sua  natura  propendeat,  et  caro  semper  adversus  spiritual 
concupiscat.  unde  in  unoquoque  nascentium  iram  Dei  atque  damnationem  meretur. 
Artieuli  XXXIX.  Articulus  IX. 

Qua  transgressione,  quae  vulgo  dicitur  originale  peccatum,  prorsus  defor- 
mata  est  ilia  Dei  in  homine  imago,  ipseque  et  ejus  posteri  natura  facti  sunt 
inimici  Dei,  maneipia  Satanae.  et  servi  peccati,  adeout  mors  aeterna  habuerii 
et  habitura  est  potentiam  et  dominium  in  omnes ,  qui  non  fuerunt,  non  sunt  coe- 
litus  regeniti.  Confessio  Scoticana,  III. 

Peccatum  omne  cum  originale  turn  actuale,  quum  justae  Dei  legis  trans- 
gressio  sit  eique  contraria,  peccatori  suapte  natura  reatum  infert ,  quo  ad  iram 
Dei ,  ac  maledictionem  legis  subeundam  obligatur ,  adeoque  redditur  obnoxius  morti 
simul  et  miseriis  omnibus  spiritualibus ,  temporalibus ,  ac  aeternis.  Westmin¬ 
ster  Confessio  fidei,  Cap.  VI.  §  6. 

Every  sin,  both  original  and  actual,  being  a  transgression  of  the  righteous 
law  of  God,  and  contrary  thereunto,  doth  in  its  own  nature  bring  guilt  upon 
the  sinner,  whereby  he  is  bound  over  to  the  wrath  of  God,  and  curse  of  the 
law,  and  so  made  subject  to  death,  with  all  miseries  spiritual,  temporal,  and 
eternal.  Boston  Confession  of  Faith,  Chapter  VI. 

Q.  What  are  the  effects  of  this  first  sin  of  man  ?  A.  I.  Guilt  ;  whereby 
they  are  bound  to  undergo  due  punishment  for  their  fault.  2.  Punishment; 
which  is  the  just  wrath  of  God,  with  the  effects  of  it  upon  them  for  the  filth 
of  sin.  Davenport's  New  Haven  Catechism. 


218 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


was  divided  into  two  divisions,  and  no  more.  And  this, 
because  the  controversy  was  a  thorough  one,  owing  to 
the  profound  view  of  sin  taken  by  the  disputants  on  the 
Augustinian  side ;  the  metaphysical,  rather  than  merely 
psychological  aspect  of  the  doctrine  being  uppermost. 

It  is  therefore  in  this  connection  that  we  rejoice  at  the 
appearance,  in  this  age,  of  a  work  like  that  of  Muller, 
which  recognizes  a  deeper  source  and  form  of  sin  than 
particular  and  conscious  choices,  and  invites  the  theolo¬ 
gian  to  contemplate  the  origin  and  essential  character  of 
that  nature  and  state  of  the  human  soul,  from  which  all 
conscious  transgression  proceeds.  Whether  it  adopt  all 
the  views  of  the  author  or  not,  we  are  confident  the 
reflecting  mind  that  has  made  itself  acquainted  with  the 
history  of  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  will  find  no  diffi¬ 
culty  in  deciding  on  which  side  of  the  great  controversy 
this  treatise  is  ;  and  furthermore,  that  it  is  on  the  whole 
a  substantial  advance  towards  a  complete  philosophical 
statement  of  the  theological  statement  contained  germ- 
inally  in  the  works  of  Augustine,  and  formally  in  all 
the  best  symbols  of  the  church. 

In  commencing  the  investigation  of  the  doctrine  of 
original  sin,  we  naturally  start  from  one  distinct  and  un¬ 
ambiguous  statement  of  Scripture  ;  and  we  know  of  no 
one  at  once  so  plain  and  full  as  the  affirmation  of  St 
Paul,  that  man  is  by  nature  a  child  of  wrath.  The  doc¬ 
trine  of  a  guilty  nature  in  man  is  taught  either  by  impli¬ 
cation,  or  by  an  explicit  detail,  in  other  passages  in 
Paul’s  Epistles,  in  the  Psalms  of  David,  in  the  Epistles 
of  John,  in  the  Prophecies  of  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah, 
and  in  the  teachings  of  Christ ;  but  perhaps  no  single 
text  of  Scripture  enounces  the  doctrine  so  briefly  and 
comprehensively  as  this.  It  makes  specific  mention  of 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


219 


the  two  principal  characteristics  of  human  sinfulness: 
j  (1.)  its  depth,  and,  by  implication,  its  universality;  and 
(2.)  its  guilt.  After  all  that  may  be  said  upon  this 
boundless  subject,  in  its  various  relations  to  man,  to  the 
universe,  and  to  God,  the  whole  substance  of  the  doc¬ 
trine  may  be  crowded  into  a  very  narrow  compass. 
When  \ve  have  said,  that  man  is  by  nature  a  child  of 
wrath — \yhen  we  have  said,  that  sin  is  a  nature,  and 
that  this  nature  is  guilt  —  we  have  said  in  substance  all 
that  can  be  said.  The  most  exhaustive  investigation  of 
the  subject  will  not  reveal  any  feature  or  element  that  is 
not  contained  by  implication  in  this  brief  statement. 

The  true  method  of  investigating  the  doctrine  is  thus 
prescribed  by  the  terms  in  which  it  is  stated  in  Scripture, 
and  we  shall  endeavor  to  follow  it  rigidly.  We  shall 
endeavor  to  exhibit  the  Scriptural  doctrine  of  original 
sin,  not  by  merely  reciting  a  series  of  texts,  and  there 
leaving  the  matter,  but  by  seizing  upon  the  most  signifi¬ 
cant  and  pregnant  text  of  all,  and  rigorously  developing 
it.  If  we  are  not  mistaken,  the  simple  contents  of  this 
one  proposition  of  St.  Paul,  will  unfold  themselves  by 
close  reflection  into  a  detailed  view,  and  a  doctrinal 
statement,  that  will  be  found  to  harmonize  also  with  rea¬ 
son  and  the  Christian  experience. 

I.  This  passage  of  inspiration  teaches,  that  sin  is  a 
nature.  “  We  were  (fvael  —  by  nature  —  children  of 
wrath.”  The  Greek  word  like  the  Latin,  natura , 

1  always  denotes  something  original  and  innate,  in  con¬ 
tradistinction  to  something  acquired  by  practice  or  habit. 
Whenever  we  wish  to  represent  an  attribute  or  quality, 
as  residing  in  a  subject  in  the  most  deep  and  total  man¬ 
ner  possible,  we  say  that  it  is  in  it  by  nature,  or  as 
a  nature ;  and  when  in  our  investigations  we  are  brought 


‘220 


TJIE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


back  to  a  nature,  as  a  fundamental  basis,  we  think  we 
have  reached  the  bottom.* 

When  we  search  for  the  essence  of  human  sinfulness, 
we  find  it  in  the  form  of  a  nature  in  the  man.  Suppose  we 

*  The  word  “nature5’  for  some  minds  conveys  only  the  meaning  of  “ere- 
aled  substance,”  so  that  to  assert  that  >in  is  a  nature,  is  tantamount,  for 
them,  to  the  assertion  that  it  is  the  substance  or  essence  of  man.  This  is 
not  its  use  in  this  essay.  Sin  is  not  substance  but  agency :  it  is  not  the  es¬ 
sence  of  the  will  but  its  action  ;  not  the  constitution  of  this  faculty  but  its 
motion.  The  term  “nature,”  consequently,  when  applied  to  moral  agency, 
is  equivalent  to  “  natural  disposition.” 

None  -were  more  careful  to  guard  against  the  Manichaean  doctrine,  that 
sin  is  substance,  than  those  who  have  held  the  doctrine  that  man  has  a  sin¬ 
ful  nature  and  that  this  nature  is  guilt.  Augustine  carefully  distinguishes 
between  the  work  of  the  Creator  and  that  of  the  creature.  The  work  of 
the  former  he  often  designates  by  the  term  natura.  Employed  in  this  sense 
he  denies  that  sin  is  nature,  or  belongs  to  the  course  and  constitution  of  na¬ 
ture.  Omne  autem  vitium  naturae  nocet,  ac  per  hoc  contra  naturam  est.  (De 
Civ.  Dei  XII.  1).  The  entire  argument  in  Chapter  G  of  Book  XII.  of  the 
De  Civitate  Dei,  endeavors  to  prove  that  moral  evil  is  the  pure  self-motion 
of  the  will  of  the  creature. 

Consonant  with  this,  Calvin  (Institutes  B.  II.  C.  I.  §  11 )  remarks  “  We  say, 
therefore,  that  man  is  corrupted  by  a  natural  depravity,  but  which  did  not 
originate  from  nature.  We  deny  that  it  proceeded  from  nature,  to  signify 
that  it  is  rather  an  adventitious  quality  or  accident,  than  a  substantial  prop¬ 
erty  originally  innate.  Yet  we  call  it  natural,  that  no  one  may  suppose  it 
to  be  contracted  by  each  individual  from  corrupt  habit.”  Again  (Inst.  B.  I. 
C.  XIY.  §  3)  “neither  the  depravity  and  wickedness  of  men  and  devils,  nor 
the  sins  which  proceed  from  that  source,  are  from  mere  nature .  but  from  a 
corruption  of  nature.”  Again  (Inst.  B.  I.  C.  XV.  §  1),  “we  must  beware 
lest,  in  precisely  pointing  out  the  natural  evils  of  man,  we  seem  to  refer 
them  to  the  Author  of  nature.”  Again  (Inst.  B.  I.  C.  XV.  §  1),  “it  would 
redound  to  the  dishonor  of  God,  if  nature  could  be  proved  to  have  had  any 
innate  depravity  at  its  formation.” 

The  Formula  Concordiae  is  careful  to  assert,  in  opposition  to  the  doc¬ 
trine  of  an  extreme  party  in  the  Lutheran  church,  “  peceatum  originale 
non  esse  ipsam  hominis  naturam ,  aut  essentiam ,  hoc  est.  ipsius  hominis  cor¬ 
pus  et  animam ,  (quae  hodie  in  nobis,  etiam  post  lapsum  sunt,  manentque 
Dei  opus  et  creatura)  sed  malum  illud  originis  esse  aliquid  in  ipsa  hominif 
natura,  corpore,  anima,  omuibusque  viribus  human  is.”  Hase’s  Libri  Syra 
bolici,  p.  639. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


221 


arrest  the  sinner  in  the  outward  act,  and  fix  our  attention 
upon  sin  in  this  form,  we  are  immediately  compelled,  by 
the  operation  of  our  own  mind,  to  let  go  of  this  outward 
act,  and  to  seek  for  the  reality  of  his  sin  within  him.  The 
outward  act,  we  see  in  an  instant,  is  but  an  effect  of  a 
cause ;  and  we  instinctively  turn  our  eye  inward,  and 
fasten  it  upon  the  cause.  The  outward  act  of  transgres¬ 
sion  drives  us,  by  the  very  laws  of  thought,  to  the  power 
that  produced  it  —  to  the  particular  volition  that  origin¬ 
ated  it.  No  mind  that  thinks  at  all  upon  sin  can  possi¬ 
bly  stop  with  the  outward  act.  Its  own  rational  reflec¬ 
tion  hurries  it  away,  almost  instantaneously,  from  the 
blow  of  the  murderer  —  from  the  momentary  gleam  of 
the  knife  —  to  the  volition  within  that  strung  the  muscle, 
and  nerved  the  blow. 

But  the  mind  cannot  stop  here  in  its  search  for  the 
essential  reality  of  sin.  When  we  have  reached  the 
sphere  —  the  inward  sphere  —  of  volitions,  we  have  by 
no  means  reached  the  ultimate  ground  and  form  of  sin. 
We  may  suppose,  that  because  we  have  gone  beyond 
the  outward  act  —  because  we  are  now  within  the  man  — 
we  have  found  sin  in  its  last  form.  But  we  are  mis¬ 
taken.  Closer  thinking,  and  what  is  still  better,  a  deeper 
experience,  will  disclose  to  us  a  depth  in  our  souls,  lower 
than  that  in  which  volitions  occur,  and  a  form  of  sin 
in  that  depth,  and  to  the  bottom  of  it,  very  different  from 
the  sin  of  single  volitions. 

The  thinking  mind  which  cannot  stop  with  mere 
effects,  but  seeks  for  first  causes,  and  especially  the  heart 
that  knows  its  own  plague,  cannot  stop  with  that  opute 
superficial  action  of  the  will  which  manifests  itself  in  a 
volition.  This  action  is  too  isolated  —  too  intermit¬ 
tent —  and,  in  reality,  too  feeble,  to  account  for  so  steady 
and  uniform  a  state  of  character  as  human  sinfulness. 


222 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


For  these  particular  volitions,  ending  in  particular  out¬ 
ward  actions,  the  mind  instinctively  seeks  a  common 
ground.  For  these  innumerable  volitions,  occurring  each 
by  itself  and  separately,  the  mind  instinctively  seeks  one 
single  indivisible  nature  from  which  they  spring.  When 
the  mind  has  got  back  to  this  point,  it  stops  content,  be¬ 
cause  it  has  reached  a  central  point.  When  it  has  traced 
all  these  outward  acts  and  inward  volitions  to  one  com¬ 
mon  principle  and  source,  it  stops  content,  because  it  has 
introduced  unity  into  the  subject  of  its  investigation. 
When  the  human  mind  has  attained  a  view  that  is  both 
central  and  simple,  it  is  satisfied. 

It  is  not  more  certain,  that  we  are  compelled  by  the 
laws  of  our  minds  to  refer  properties  to  a  substance,  than 
that  by  the  operation  of  the  same  laws,  we  are  compel¬ 
led  to  refer  sinful  volitions  to  a  sinful  disposition.  When 
we  see  exercises  of  the  soul,  we  as  instinctively  refer 
them  to  a  natural  character  in  that  soul,  as  we  refer  the 
the  properties  of  a  body  to  the  substance  of  that  body. 
In  both  cases  the  human  mind  is  seeking  for  unity  and 
simplicity  in  its  perceptions.  It  cannot  be  content  with 
merely  looking  at  these  various  properties  of  matter,  this 
impenetrability,  this  extension  in  space,  this  form,  this 
color,  and  stopping  here.  It  wants  unity  of  perception, 
and  simplicity  of  perception,  and  therefore  it  goes  farther, 
and  refers  all  these  properties  to  one  simple  substance, 
of  which  they  are  the  manifestation.  In  like  manner, 
the  human  mind  cannot  be  content  with  merely  looking 
at  all  these  exercises  —  these  unnumbered  volitions  of  the 
soul.  It  craves  unity  and  simplicity  of  perception  here 
too,  and  refers  these  innumerable,  sinful  volitions,  to  a 
sinful  nature  in  man,  one  and  indivisible,  of  which  they 
are  the  manifestations. 

Again :  the  argument  from  the  Christian  experience  is 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


223 


as  strong  as  that  from  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  in 
favor  of  the  position  that  the  ultimate  form  —  the  essen¬ 
tial  reality —  of  sin,  is  a  nature.  Although  in  the  first 
period  of  conviction  of  sin,  the  attention  of  the  man  may 
be  directed  mainly  to  actions  and  volitions;  and  although 
this  mayT>e  the  case  to  a  considerable  extent,  even  in 
the  first  stages  of  the  Christian  experience,  it  is  yet  safe 
to  say,  that  the  Christian  man  is  troubled  through  the 
Christian  life  on  earth,  mainly,  and  permanently,  by  his 
sinful  nature.  The  reality  of  sin,  for  every  man  whoseN^ 
.  ^experience  is  worth  being  taken  as  testimony,  is  not 
in  particular  volitions  of  his  will,  but  in  its  abiding 
state  —  not  in  what  he  chooses  to  do  now  and  then,  but 
in  that  unceasing,  uninterrupted  determination  of  self  to 
\evil.  This  is  the  torment  of  his  life  —  that  below  his 
volitions  to  sin  —  below  his  resolutions  to  reform  —  even 
below  his  deepest  self-examination,  and  his  most  distinct 
self-knowledge  —  below  all  the  conscious  exercises  and 
operations  of  his  soul,  there  is  a  sinful  heart ,  a  dark 
ground  of  moral  evil. 

We  are  aware  of  the  mysteriousness  which  is  thrown 
over  the  subject  of  sin,  by  the  assumption  of  a  form  of 
sin  which  is  deeper  than  consciousness.  But  we  must 
take  things  as  we  find  them,  whether  they  are  mysterious 
or  not  ;  whether  we  can  explain  them  or  not.  The  con¬ 
tents  which  we  are  to  analyze  are  given  to  our  hand,  and 
whether  we  succeed  or  not  in  the  analysis,  they  have  the 
same  fixed  and  real  nature  of  their  own.  And,  we  may 
add,  the  true  way  to  arrive  at  the  unfolding  of  a  mys¬ 
tery,  is  to  recognize  in  the  outset,  the  existence  of  all 
that  belongs  to  it.  The  true  way  to  arrive  at  the  sue- 
cessful  solution  of  a  dark  problem,  is  to  retain  all  the 
terms  of  its  statement.  To  throw  out  one  or  more  of 
die  terms  which  properly  belong  to  the  problem,  and  in 


224 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


which  its  real  nature  is  contained,  because  it  seems  to  be 
a  troublesome  term  to  manage,  is  to  utterly  prevent  the 
solution  ;  and  the  attempt  to  unfold  the  deep  mystery  of 
original  sin,  while  rejecting  in  the  outset  an  element  that 
is  essential  —  the  sin  that  is  deeper  than  consciousness, 
or  the  sinful  nature,  as  distinguished  from  sinful  voli¬ 
tions —  simply  because  it  darkens  a  subject  that  is  con¬ 
fessedly  mysterious,  must  inevitably  be  a  failure. 

Without  troubling  ourselves,  therefore,  at  this  point  in 
the  investigation,  about  the  mysteriousness  of  a  sin  of 
which  we  are  not  conscious,  because  it  is  the  basis  and 
explanation  of  consciousness,  and  therefore  of  necessity 
below  its  range  and  plane,  let  us  here  and  now  settle  the 
fact,  whether  there  is  any  such  sin. 

(1.)  And,  in  the  first  place,  is  it  not  a  fact,  that  in 
regard  to  the  matter  of  sin,  we  do  refer  all  the  conscious 
processes  of  our  souls  to  something  back  of  these  process¬ 
es  ?  The  materials  that  make  up  our  consciousness  as 
sinners  —  the  innumerable  items  of  which  it  is  compos¬ 
ed —  the  thousands  of  wrong  volitions,  and  the  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  wrong  emotions,  and  the  millions  of  wrong 
thoughts  —  do  we  not,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  refer  them 
all  to  some  one  thing,  out  of  which  they  spring  ?  Can 
we,  and  as  matter  of  fact  do  we,  continue  to  chase 
these  innumerable  and  constantly  vanishing  particulars, 
dropping  one  as  soon  as  we  have  reached  the  next  suc¬ 
ceeding,  because  the  mind  can  grasp  but  one  thing  at  a 
time,  and  thus  lose  the  mind  in  an  endless  series,  instead 
of  collecting  it  in  one  act  of  contemplation  and  reflec¬ 
tion  ;  or  do  we,  with  David,  cease  this  attempt  to  num¬ 
ber  our  iniquities,  and  having  acknowledged  that  they 
are  more  than  the  hairs  of  our  head,  (Ps.  xl.  12,)  with 
him  confess  a  one  sin  of  heart  and  of  nature  at  the  bot¬ 
tom  of  them  all  ?  No  man  who  has  had  any  experience 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


225 


on  this  subject  at  all,  will  deny  that  such  is  the  fact, — . 
Whatever  his  theory  may  be,  every  man  does,  in  his 
private  reflections  and  secret  confession  to  God,  find  a 
form  of  sin  within  him  which  he  regards  as  the  fountain 
and  causeWf  all  his  particular  and  conscious  transgres¬ 
sions.  He  finds  an  original  sin  from  which  these  partic¬ 
ular  wrong  thoughts,  emotions,  and  volitions,  proceed. 

(2.)  And  now,  in  the  second  place,  is  it  not  a  fact,  that 
we  are  never  conscious  of  this  source  itself  of  transgres¬ 
sions,  but  only  of  what  flows  from  it?  Wre  are  undeni¬ 
ably  conscious  of  these  thoughts,  these  emotions,  these 
volitions  —  of  these  items  which  go  to  make  up  the  sum 
of  our  experience  —  of  these  various  materials  of  con¬ 
sciousness.  But,  are  we,  as  matter  of  fact,  ever  conscious 
of  that  principle  of  evil  —  that  sinful  nature ,  to  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  we  instinctively  refer  all  our  conscious 
transgressions  ?  We  have  only  to  reflect  a  moment  to 
see  that  we  are  never  conscious  of  this  sinful  nature  itself, 
but  only  of  what  proceeds  from  it.  The  evil  principle  to 
which  we  refer  all  these  manifestations  of  evil,  remains 
ever  below  the  plane  of  consciousness.  These  manifes¬ 
tations  may,  themselves,  become  more  and  more  profound, 
and  may  carry  us  down  into  deeper  and  deeper  regions, 
but  we  find  the  sinful  nature  ever  below  us ;  as  we  go 
down  into  the  depths  of  our  apostate  souls,  and  know 
still  more  and  still  more  of  the  plague  of  our  hearts,  we 
are  all  along,  and  at  every  lower  point,  obliged  to  assume 
the  existence  of  a  yet  deeper  sin  than  our  consciousness 
has  grasped.  We  never  reach  the  bottom  ;  we  never 
come,  in  consciousness,  to  the  lowest  and  ultimate  form 
of  sin ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  we  never  see  the 
time  when  we  have  become  conscious  of  all  our  sinful¬ 
ness,  and  there  are  no  further  discoveries  for  us  to  make. 
The  prayer  of  David  is  the  proper  prayer  for  us  to  the 


226 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


day  of  our  death :  “  Search  me,  O  Lord,  and  try  me,  and 

see  what  evil  ways  are  within  me ;  cleanse  Thou  me 

*/  • 

from  secret  faults.'’  A  prayer,  it  may  be  remarked,  that 
is  utterly  unintelligible  on  the  hypothesis  that  there  is  no 
sin  deeper  than  consciousness. 

This  sinful  nature,  as  distinguished  from  the  conscious 
transgressions  that  proceed  from  it,  is  not  a  part  of  our 
experience,  but  something  which  we  infer  from  our  expe¬ 
rience,  as  the  origin  and  explanation  of  it.  It  is  the 
metaphysical  ground  of  the  physical  —  i.  e.,  psychological 
—  phenomena.  We  find  within  consciousness,  an  in¬ 
numerable  amount  of  particulars —  an  endless  series  of 
wrong  thoughts,  emotions,  and  volitions  —  each  occur¬ 
ring  by  itself;  and  this  is  all  we  do  or  can  find  in  con¬ 
sciousness.  And  if  we  were  confined  merely  to  what  we 

%/ 

are  conscious  of —  if  we  were  shut  up  to  the  series  of  our 
experiences  merely  —  we  should  never  come  to  the  knowl¬ 
edge  of  a  sinful  nature.  We  should  be  compelled  to  stop 
with  the  phenomenal  merely.  But  when  in  reflection, 
and  for  the  purposes  of  science,  we  arrest  all  these  pro¬ 
cesses  of  consciousness  —  when  we  bring  this  ever-flow¬ 
ing  stream  of  conscious  transgressions  to  a  stand-still  — 
that  we  may  look  at  them,  and  find  the  origin  and  first 
cause  of  them,  then  we  are  obliged  to  assume  a  principle 
below  them  all,  to  infer  a  nature  back  of  them  all. — 
Thus,  this  sinful  nature  is  an  inference ,  an  assumption ,  or, 
to  use  a  word  borrowed  from  geometry,  a  postulate ,  which 
the  mind  is  obliged  to  grant,  in  order  to  find  a  key  that 
will  unlock,  and  explain,  its  own  experience. 

“  But  granting,”  the  objector  may  say,  “  granting  that, 
as  matter  of  fact,  we  do  infer  and  assume,  from  what  we 
find  in  our  consciousness,  the  existence  of  a  nature 
deeper  than  consciousness,  to  which  we  refer  the  data  of 
experience,  and  by  which  we  explain  them,  what  evidence 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


227 


is  there,  that  there  is  in  reality  any  such  thing?  By  your 
own  confession,  it  is  entirely  beyond  the  sphere  of  human 
consciousness ;  and  though  it  may  be  a  convenien 
a  priori  postulate,  under  which  to  group  and  generalize 
the  various  particulars  in  our  experience,  what  evidence 
is  there,  that  there  is  an  actual  correspondent  to  it  in  the 
human  soul  ?  ”  We  answer:  The  evidence  in  this  case 
is  preciselyThe  same  with  that  which  exists  in  the  case 
of  any  and  every  purely  metaphysical  truth.  The  evi¬ 
dence  cannot  of  course  be  derived  from  consciousness, 
because  we  are  seeking  the  ground  and  explanation  of 
consciousness  itself ;  and  therefore  must  be  sought  for  in 
that  normal  and  necessary  movement  of  our  rational  intellect , 
by  which  we  are  compelled  to  the  a  priori  assumption. — 
We  find  ourselves  necessitated ,  in  every  instance  that  we 
attempt  to  find  an  adequate  origin  for  our  particular 
transgressions,  to  assume  the  existence  of  a  sinful  nature, 
and  this  rational  necessity  in  the  case,  is  the  evidence  that 
we  need.  When  we  find  that  the  mind  is  driven  by  the 
very  laics  of  thought  to  an  a  priori  assumption,  and  that 
it  is  invariably  driven  to  it  whenever  it  reflects  at  all  upon 
its  experience,  we  have  all  the  evidence  that  can  be  had 
for  a  metaphysical  truth  —  all  the  evidence  that  can 
'rationally  be  required,  that  the  assumption  corresponds 
to  the  truth  and  reality  in  the  case.  Reason  cannot 
impose  upon  itself,  and  invariably  teach  a  truth  of  know¬ 
ing,  that  is  no  truth  of  being  —  a  truth  of  logic  and 
science,  that  is  no  truth  of  fact ;  and  therefore  it  is,  that 

men  will  always  believe  that  there  is  a  substance  in 

* 

which  properties  inhere,  and  a  nature  from  which  mani¬ 
festations  proceed,  though  there  is  no  evidence  from  con¬ 
sciousness  for  either.  The  fact,  that  the  human  mind,  in 
the  exercise  of  its  sober  reflection  upon  the  data  of  con¬ 
sciousness,  is  invariably  and  unavoidably  compelled  +o  a 


228 


rHE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


given  assumption,  is  evidence  that  the  assumption  has 
rational  grounds,  and  corresponds  to  truth  and  reality. — 
If  it  is  not,  then  a  lie  has  been  built  into  the  very  struc¬ 
ture  of  the  human  mind,  and  it  is  not  to  be  trusted  in 
regard  to  any  a  priori  truth.  If,  when  following  the  laws 
of  thought,  and  trusting  to  the  constitution  imposed 
upon  it  by  the  Creator,  there  is  no  certainty  that  the 
assumptions  which  it  is  compelled  to  make,  as  the  suffi¬ 
cient  ground  and  adequate  explanation  of  its  experimental 
consciousness,  correspond  to  the  truth  of  things,  the 
human  mind  might  as  well  stop  thinking  altogether. 

And  what  shall  we  do  in  this  connection  with  the 
sense  of  guilt  ?  This  sinful  nature,  as  matter  of  fact,  is 
the  source  of  remorse,  and  the  cause  of  the  most  poignant 
self-reproach  in  those  whose  senses  have  been  exercised 
to  discern  good  and  evil.  Can  we  suppose  that  there  is 
a  lie  here  too,  and  that  pangs  come  into  the  human  soul, 
and  exist  there,  with  no  valid  reason  for  them,  no  real 
ground  for  them  to  rest  upon  ?  Can  we  suppose  that  all 
the  remorse  and  self-reproach  that  has  resulted  in  the 
souls  of  men,  from  a  knowledge  of  their  nature  and 
character ,  and  not  merely  of  their  particular  acts,  was 
un-called  for,  because  there  is  in  reality  no  such  nature? 
Can  we  suppose  that  He  who  looks  on  things  precisely 
as  they  are,  knoivs  that  there  is  no  just  cause  for  this 
mental  distress  in  His  creatures  ? 

In  addition  to  these  arguments  derived  from  the  nature 
of  the  human  mind,  and  the  sense  of  guilt,  (which  latter 
point  opens  a  wide  and  most  interesting  field  of  investi¬ 
gation,)  we  may  add,  that  the  history  of  Christian  doctrine 
shows  that  the  church  has  in  all  ages  believed  in  a  sinful 
nature,  as  distinguished  from  conscious  transgressions, 
The  soundest,  and,  as  we  believe,  the  profoundest  symbols 
all  teach  the  existence  of  a  form  of  human  sinfulness 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


229 


running  deeper  than  even  the  most  thorough  and  search¬ 
ing  Christian  experience — or,  which  is  the  same  thing, 
that  the  Divine  Eye  beholds  a  corruption  in  man,  more 
radical  and  more  profound  than  has  ever  been  seen  by 
the  eye  of  man  himself. 

II.  Assuming,  then,  that  the  fact  of  a  sinful  nature 
has  been  established,  we  pass  to  the  second  statement 
of  St.  PauL  that  man  is  by  nature  a  child  of  wrath.  We 
pass  from  his  statement,  that  sin,  in  its  ultimate  form, 
is  a  nature,  to  his  statement,  that  this  nature  is  guilt . 
And  we  need  not  say,  that  in  so  doing,  we  are  passing 
over  into  the  darkest  and  most  dangerous  district  in  the 
whole  domain  of  theological  speculation.  The  recon¬ 
dite  nature  of  the  subject,  the  difficulty  of  clearly  ex¬ 
pressing  one’s  conceptions,  even  when  they  lie  distinct 
in  one’s  own  mind,  the  liability  to  push  a  point  too  far, 
the  failure  to  guard  one’s  statements  with  sufficient  care, 
and  many  other  causes  that  might  be  specified,  conspire 
to  render  this  side  of  the  doctrine  of  original  sin  one  of 
the  most  difficult  of  all  topics  of  discussion.  And  be¬ 
fore  we  venture  out  into  this  region,  we  wish  to  say 
beforehand,  that  we  should  regret  and  dread  above  all 
things,  to  advance  any  views  on  this  important  doctrine 
that  would  conflict  with  the  Christian’s  experience  of 
the  plague  of  his  heart — -any  views  that  would  be  in  the 
least  degree  prejudicial  to  that  profound  view  of  sin  which 
the  soul  does  actually  have  when  under  the  teaching  and 
influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  We  most  heartily  and  re¬ 
ligiously  acknowledge,  that  here  the  Practical  must  have 
preference  to  the  Speculative ;  and  we  would  immediate¬ 
ly  give  up  any  speculative  view  or  theory  of  sin  that  we 
might  have  formed,  the  moment  that  we  saw  that  it 
would  go,  or  tend  in  the  least,  to  disparage  a  thorough¬ 
going  statement  of  the  doctrine  in  a  creed,  or  to  pro- 


230 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


mote  an  imperfect  and  shallow  experience  of  it  in  the 
heart. 

The  apostle  teaches,  that  sinful  man  is  a  child  of 
wrath.  Now,  none  but  a  guilty  being  can  be  the  object 
of  the  righteous  and  holy  displeasure  of  God.  The  doc¬ 
trine  of  the  Divine  Anger  is  tenable  only  on  the  sup¬ 
position  that  the  objects  upon  whom  it  expends  itself 
are  really  ill  deserving — are  really  criminal.  It  becomes 
necessary  therefore  to  show,  that  that  sinful  nature  of 
man,  on  account  of  which  he  becomes  a  child  of  wrath, 
and  obnoxious  to  the  Divine  anger,  is  a  guilty  nature. 
In  doing  this,  we  shall  be  led  to  discuss  sin  in  its  rela¬ 
tion  to  the  human  Will,  and  to  Adam,  the  first  man. 

(1.)  In  regard  to  the  first  point,  the  position  taken  is, 
that  this  sinful  nature  is  in  the  Will,  and  is  the  product 
of  the  Will.  We  say  that  it  is  in  the  Will,  in  contra- 

V  ' 

distinction  to  the  physical  nature  of  man.  One  state¬ 
ment  of  the  doctrine  of  original  sin  makes  it  to  consist 
in  the  depravation  of  man’s  sensuous  nature  merely.  In 
this  case,  the  Will  is  conceived  to  be  extraneous  to  this 
corrupted  nature,  and  merely  the  executor  of  it.  Origin¬ 
al  sin,  in  this  case,  is  not  in  the  voluntary  part  of  man, 
but  in  the  involuntary  part  of  him;  and  guilt  cleaves  to 
him  when  the  voluntary  part  executes  the  promptings  of 
the  involuntary  part;  and  guilt  does  not  cleave  to  him 
until  this  does  take  place.  The  adherents  of  this  view 
insist,  (and  properly  too,  if  this  statement  is  correct.) 
that  the  term  “  sinful,”  in  the  sense  of  guilty  or  criminal, 
cannot  be  applied  to  this  depraved  physical  nature  —  to 
this  (so-called)  original  sin. 

In  opposition  to  this  view,  we  affirm  that  original  sin 
does  not  consist  in  the  depravation  of  man’s  sensuous  or 
physical  nature,  but  in  the  depravation  of  his  Will  itself. 
The  corruption  of  the  physical  nature  of  man  is  one  of 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


231 


the  consequences  of  original  sin,  but  not  original  sin  it¬ 
self.  This  is  a  depravation  of  a  far  deeper  and  more 
central  faculty  than  that  of  sense  —  a  corruption  of  the 
voluntary  power  itself.  It  is  because  the  human  Will  — 
the  governing  power  in  the  soul — first  fell  away  from 
God,  that  the  other  faculties  of  man  are  in  the  condition 
they  are,  that  the  affections  are  carnal,  that  the  under¬ 
standing  is  darkened,  that  the  physical  nature  is  de¬ 
praved  ;  and  these  effects  of  apostasy  should  never  be 
put  in  the  place  of  their  cause  —  of  that  corruption  of  the 
Will  which  is  the  origin  of  them  all. 

But  the  examination  of  a  single  instance  of  the  grati¬ 
fication  of  a  sensuous  propensity,  is  enough  to  show 
that  sin  lies  elsewhere  than  in  the  physical  nature.  A 
man,  we  will  suppose,  gratifies  the  sensuous  craving  for 
strong  drink.  The  sin  in  the  case  does  not  lie  in  this 
craving  of  the  sensuous  nature,  corrupted  though  it  be. 
The  sin  in  the  case  lies  further  back,  in  the  Will;  and, 
be  it  observed,  not  solely  in  that  particular  volition  of 
the  Will  by  which  the  act  of  drinking  was  performed, 
but  ultimately  in  that  abiding  state  of  the  Will  —  that 
selfishness ,  or  selfish  nature  in  the  Will  —  which  prompt¬ 
ed  and  permitted  the  volition.  Here,  as  in  every  in¬ 
stance,  we  are  led  back  to  a  sinful  nature,  as  the  essence 
of  sin ;  and  this  nature  we  find  in  the  Will  itself ;  we 
find  it  to  be  a  particular  state  of  the  Will  itself. 

But,  besides  saying  that  this  sinful  nature  is  in  the 
Will,  we  have  said,  furthermore,  that  it  is  the  product  of 
the  Will.  By  this  we  mean,  that  the  efficient  producing 
author  of  this  sinful  nature  is  the  Will  itself;  in  other 
words,  that  this  nature  is  a  self-willed ,  a  self-determined 
nature.  Before  proceeding  further  with  this  part  of  the 
subject,  we  wish  to  premise  a  few  remarks  upon  these 
te*  ns,  44  self-willed”  and  44  self-determined.” 


232  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 

It  is  unfortunate  for  the  cause  of  truth,  and  especially 
for  the  scientific  development  of  the  doctrine  of  original 
sin,  that  the  term  self-determination  has  been  appropria¬ 
ted  by  the  Arminian  School  in  Theology;  and  still  more 
unfortunate,  that  the  conception  denoted  by  it  has  been, 
and  still  is,  such  a  defective  and  inadequate  one.  Both 
Arminians  and  their  modern  opponents  have  understood, 
and  still  do  understand,  by  this  term,  an  ability  in  the 
Will,  at  any  moment,  to  choose  or  refuse  some  particu¬ 
lar  thing.  The  Will  accordingly,  both  for  Arminians 
and  their  opponents,  is  merely  the  faculty  of  single 
choices  —  the  faculty  of  particular  volitions  ;  and  self-de¬ 
termination  for  both  parties  denotes  the  ability  to  put 
forth  a  single  volition,  or  not,  at  pleasure.  The  Will  for 
both  parties  is  simply  that  faculty  of  particular  choices, 
by  which  we  raise  a  hand  or  let  it  drop  —  a  species  of 
voluntary  power  which  the  horse  employs,  in  common 
with  man,  when  he  chooses  clover  and  refuses  burdock. 

This  is  the  notion  attached  to  the  term  self-determina¬ 
tion  in  the  treatise  of  Edwards  —  the  ability,  viz.,  to 
resolve  this  way  or  that,  at  any  moment,  and  under 
all  circumstances ;  and  if  this  is  the  only  self-deter¬ 
mination  of  which  we  can  have  any  conception,  then 
Edwards  was  correct  in  denying  the  doctrine.  So  far 
as  his  work  combats  this  defective  and  inadequate  no¬ 
tion  of  self-determination  —  so  far  as  it  seeks  to  over¬ 
throw  the  Arminian  self-determination  —  it  is  one  of  great 
value.  From  such  a  superficial  view  of  the  Will,  as 
being  merely  the  faculty  of  single  isolated  volitions,  and 
from  such  an  inadequate  notion  of  self-determination,  as 
being  merely  the  ability  to  choose  or  refuse  a  particular 
thing,  in  a  particular  case,  nothing  but  the  most  shallow 
view  both  of  sin  and  of  regeneration  could  result.  The 

O  a 

great  merit  of  Edwards  in  this  polemic  treatise,  it  seems 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


233 


to  us,  consists  more  in  bis  powerful  and  successful  re¬ 
sistance  of  a  false  theology,  in  connection  with  a  thorough 
view  of  the  fallen  and  corrupt  Will,  than  in  his  own  posi¬ 
tive  statements  concerning  the  ideal  and  original  nature 
of  this  faculty.* 

In  saying,  therefore,  that  the  sinful  nature  of  man  is 
the  product  of  his  Will,  we  do  not  mean  to  teach,  that 
it  has  its  origin  in  the  Will  considered  as  the  faculty  of 
choices,  or  particular  volitions.  We  no  more  believe 
that  original  sin  was  produced  by  a  volition,  than  that  it 
can  be  destroyed  by  one.  And  if  we  can  have  no  idea 
of  the  Will  except  as  such  a  faculty  of  single  choices, 
and  no  idea  of  voluntary  action  except  such  as  we  are 
conscious  of  in  our  volitions  and  resolutions,  then  we 
grant  that  the  sinful  nature  must  be  referred  to  some 
other  producing  cause  than  the  human  Will,  and  that 
the  epithets,  “  self-determined,”  and  “  self-originated,” 
cannot  be  applied  to  it. 

But  it  seems  to  us  that  we  can  have  a  fuller  and  more 
adequate  idea  of  the  voluntary  power  in  man  than  this 
comes  to.  It  seems  to  us  that  our  idea  of  the  human 
Will  is  by  no  means  exhausted  of  its  contents,  when  we 
have  taken  into  view  merely  that  ability  which  a  man 
has,  to  regulate  his  conduct  in  a  particular  instance.  It 
seems  to  us  that  we  do  believe  in  the  existence  of  a  con¬ 
trolling  power  in  the  soul,  that  is  far  more  central  and 
profound  than  the  quite  superficial  faculty  by  which  we 
regulate  the  movement  of  our  limbs  outwardly,  or  in¬ 
wardly  summon  up  our  energies  to  the  performance  of 
particular  acts.  It  seems  to  us,  that  by  the  Will,  is 
meant  a  voluntary  power  that  lies  at  the  very  centre  of 
the  soul,  and  whose  movements  consist,  not  so  much  in 

*  Edwards’s  work  on  “The  Affections,”  contains  much  that  is  of  great 
^alue  for  the  construction  of  a  philosophic  theory  of  the  Will. 


234 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


choosing  or  refusing,  in  reference  to  particular  circum¬ 
stances,  as  in  determining  the  whole  man  with  reference 
to  some  great  and  ultimate  end  of  living.  The  character¬ 
istic  of  the  Will  proper,  as  distinguished  from  the  voli¬ 
tionary  faculty,  is  determination  of  the  whole  being  to  an 
ultimate  end ,  rather  than  selection  of  means  for  attaining 
that  end  in  a  particular  case.*  The  difference  between 
the  voluntary  and  the  volitionary  power  —  between  the 
Will  proper  and  the  faculty  of  choices  —  may  be  seen  by 
considering  a  particular  instance  of  the  exercise  of  the 
latter.  Suppose  that  a  man  chooses  to  indulge  one  of 
his  appetites  in  a  particular  instance  —  the  appetite  for 
alcoholic  stimulus,  e.  g. — and  that  he  actually  does  gra¬ 
tify  it.  In  this  instance,  he  puts  forth  one  single  voli¬ 
tion,  and  performs  one  particular  act.  By  an  act  of  the 
faculty  of  choices,  of  which  he  is  distinctly  conscious, 
and  over  which  he  has  arbitrary  power,  he  drinks,  and 
gratifies  his  appetite.  But  why  does  he  thus  choose  in 
this  particular  instance  ?  In  other  words,  is  there  not  a 
deeper  ground  for  this  single  volition  ?  Is  not  this  parti¬ 
cular  act  of  the  choice  determined  by  a  far  deeper  and 
pre-existing  determination  of  his  whole  inward  being  to 
self,  as  an  ultimate  end  of  living?  And  now,  if  the 
Will  should  be  widened  out  and  deepened,  so  as  to  con¬ 
tain  this  whole  inward  state  of  the  man  —  tiffs  entire 
tendency  of  the  soul  to  self  and  sin  —  is  it  not  plain  that 
it  would  be  a  very  different  power  from  that  which  put 
forth  the  particular  volition  ?  Would  not  the  Will,  as 
thus  conceived,  cover  a  far  wider  surface  of  the  soul,  and 
reach  down  to  a  far  deeper  depth  in  it,  than  that  faculty 

*  This  distinction  between  the  Will  proper,  and  the  faculty  of  choices,  is 
marked  in  Latin  by  the  two  words,  Voluntas  and  Arbitrium;  and  in  that  one 
of  the  modern  tongues  whose  vocabulary  for  Philosophy  is  the  richest  of 
all,  by  the  two  words,  Wille  and  Willkiiltr. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


235 


of  single  choices  which  covers  but  a  single  point  on  the 
surface,  and  never  goes  below  the  surface  ?  —  Would,  not 
a  faculty  comprehensive  enough  to  include  the  whole 
man.  and  sufficiently  deep  and  central  to  be  the  origin 
and  basis  of  a  nature ,  a  character ,  a  permanent  moral 
state ,  be  a  very  different  faculty  from  that  volitionary 
power  whose  activity  is  merely  on  the  surface,  and  whose 
products  are  single  resolutions,  and  transient  volitions  ? 

Now,  by  the  Will,  we  mean  such  a  faculty.  We 
mean  by  it  a  voluntary  power  that  lies  at  the  very 
foundation  of  the  human  soul,  constituting  its  central, 
active  principle,  containing  the  whole  moral  state,  and 
all  the  moral  affections.  We  mean  by  it  a  voluntary 
power  that  carries  the  whole  inward  being  along  with  it 
when  it  moves ;  a  power,  in  short,  which  is  the  man 
himself  —  the  ego,  the  person. 

It  will  be  seen  from  this  view,  that  the  voluntary  power 
in  man  is  the  deepest  and  most  central  power  within 
him.  We  sometimes  hear  the  human  soul  spoken  of  as 
composed  fundamentally  of  Intellect  and  of  Feeling, 
and  only  superficially  of  Will ;  as  if  man  were  an  Intel¬ 
lect  at  bottom,  or  a  Heart  at  bottom,  and  then  a  Will 
were  superinduced  as  the  executive  of  these.  But  this 
cannot  be  so,  for  man  is  a  person,  and  the  bottom  of 
personality  is  free  Will.  Man  at  bottom  is  a  Will  —  a 
self-determinino-  creature  —  and  his  other  faculties  of 

O 

knowing  and  feeling  are  grafted  into  this  stock  and 
root;  and  hence  he  is  responsible  from  centre  to  circum¬ 
ference.* 

*  Tli is  more  capacious  idea  of  the  Will  is  the  most  common  one  in 
doctrinal  history.  “Voluntas  est  quippe  in  omnibus:  imo  omnes  nihil 
uliucl  quam  voluntcites  sunt.  Nam  quid  est  cupiditas,  et  laetitia,  nisi  voluntas 
in  eorum  consensionem  que  volpmus  1  Et  quid  est  metus  atque  tristitia, 
nisi  voluntas  in  dissensionem  ab  his  quae  nolumus.”  Aug.  De  civitate  Dei, 
Lib.  XIV.,  Cap.  VI. 


236 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


The  Will,  as  thus  defined,  we  affirm  to  be  the  respon¬ 
sible  and  guilty  author  of  the  sinful  nature.  Indeed ,  this 
sinful  nature  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  state  of  the 

“  The  Will  is  in  the  soul  like  the  primum  mobile  in  the  heavens,  that  doth 
carry  all  the  inferior  orbs  away  with  its  own  motion.  This  is  the  whole  of 
a  man  ;  a  man  is  not  what  he  knoweth.  or  what  he  remembereth,  but  what 
he  Willeth.  The  Will  is  the  Queen  sitting  upon  its  throne,  exercising  its 
dominion  over  the  other  parts  of  the  soul.  The  Will  is  the  proper  seat  of 
all  our  sin  ;  and  if  there  could  be  a  summum  malum  as  there  is  a  summum 
bonum ,  this  would  be  in  the  Will.” — Burgess.  Original  Sin.  Part  III. 
chap.  XIV.  Sec.  1. 

“In  the  Will,  we  are  to  conceive  suitable  and  proportionate  affections  to 
those  we  call  passions  in  the  sensitive  part.  Thus,  in  the  Will,  (as  it  is  a 
rational  appetite,)  there  are  love,  joy,  desire,  fear,  and  hatred.  *  *  * 

So  that  the  Will  loveth,  the  Will  rejoiceth,  and  the  Will  desireth,”  etc. — 
Burgess.  Part  III.  chap.  IV.  Sec.  2. 

“  The  heart  in  Scripture  is  variously  used:  sometimes  for  the  mind  and 
understanding;  sometimes  for  the  Will ;  sometimes  for  the  affections  ;  some¬ 
times  for  the  conscience  ;  sometimes  for  the  whole  soul.  Generally  it  de¬ 
notes  the  whole  soul  of  man,  and  all  the  faculties  of  it,  not  absolutely,  hut 
as  they  are  one  principle  of  moral  operations ,  as  they  all  concur  in  our  doing 
good  cr  evil” — Owen.  Indwelling  Sin.  Chapter  JII. 

“  And  then,  likewise,  there  is  a  consequent  averse  or  transverse  posture  in 
the  affections  of  the  soul,  whereof  indeed ,  the  Will  is  the  seat  and  subject ;  de¬ 
sires,  fears,  hopes,  delights,  anger,  sorrow,  all  transversed  in  a  quite  con¬ 
trary  course  and  being,  to  what  they  should  be.” — Howe’s  Oracles  of  God. 
Lee.  25.  Also  compare  pp.  1204,  1128,  891.  New  York  Ed. 

. .“  As  to  spiritual  duties  or  acts,  or  any  good  thing  in  the  state  or  imma¬ 
nent  acts  of  the  Will  itself,  or  of  the  affections  ( which  are  only  certain  modes 
of  the  exercise  of  the  Will),  etc. — Edwards  on  the  Will.  Part  III.  Sec.  4. 

“  The  Will,  and  the  affections  of  the  soul,  are  not  two  faculties;  the 
affections  are  not  essentially  distinct  from  the  Will,  nor  do  they  differ  from  the 
mere  actings  of  the  Will ,  and  inclination  of  the  soul,  but  only  in  the  liveliness 
and  sensibleness  of  exercise.” — Edwards  on  the  Affections.  Works,  III. 
p.  3. 

Edwards  everywhere  dichotomizes.  For  example,  speaking  of  the  differ¬ 
ence  between  the  knowledge  of  the  natural  man  and  that  of  the  regenerate, 
he  remarks:  “  In  the  former  is  exercised  merely  the  speculative  faculty,  or 
the  understanding,  strictly  so  called,  or  as  spoken  of  in  distinction  from  the 
Will,  or  disposition  of  the  soul.  In  the  latter,  the  Will,  or  inclination,  or  heart . 
is  mainly  concerned.” — Reality  of  Spiritual  Light.  Works,  IV.  442. 

The  terms  “  heart  ”  and  “will ’’are  everywhere  used  as  equivalents 
Calvin.  See  e.  g.  Institutes.  Book  II. Chap.  III.  Sec.  5-11. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


Will;  nothing'  more  nor  less  than  its  constant  and  total 
determination  to  self, \  as  the  ultimate  end  of  living.  This 
voluntary  power  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  soul,  as  its 
elementary  Tase,  and  carrying  all  the  faculties  and  powers 
of  the  man  along  with  it,  whenever  it  moves,  and  wher¬ 
ever  it  £oes,  has  turned  away  from  God  as  an  ultimate 
end  and  this  self-direction  —  this  permanent  and  entire 
determination  of  itself — this  state  of  the  Will — is  the 
sinful  nature  of  man. 

Here  then  we  have  a  depraved  nature,  and  a  depraved 
nature  that  is  guilt,  because  it  is  a  self-originated  nature* 
Here,  then,  is  the  child  of  wrath.  Were  this  nature 
created  and  put  into  man,  as  an  intellectual  nature,  or  as 
a  particular  temperament,  is  put  into  him,  by  the  Creator 
of  all  things,  it  would  not  be  a  responsible  and  guilty 
nature,  nor  would  man  be  a  child  of  wrath.  But  it  does 
not  thus  originate.  It  has  its  origin  in  the  free  and  res¬ 
ponsible  use  of  that  voluntary  power  which  God  has 
created  and  placed  in  the  human  soul,  as  its  most  central, 
most  mysterious,  and  most  hazardous  endowment.  It  is 
a  self-determined  nature  —  i.  e.,  a  nature  originated  in  a 
Will ,  and  by  a  Willf 

*  To  use  a  scholastic  distinction  —  it  is  peccatum  originans ,  and  not 
merely  originatum. 

t  The  Will  is  the  principle,  the  next  seat  and  cause  of  obedience  and 
disobedience.  Moral  actions  are  unto  us,  or  in  us,  so  far  good  or  evil  as 
they  partake  of  the  consent  of  the  Will.  He  spoke  truth  of  old  who  said 
l'  Orane  peccatum  est  adeo  voluntarium,  ut  non  sit  peccatum  nisi  sit  vol- 
untarium” — Owen,  Indwelling  Sin,  Chapter  XII. 

“I  mean  hereby  those  first  acts  of  the  soul  which  are  thus  far  involuntary 
as  that  they  have  not  the  actual  [i.  e.,  deliberately  conscious]  consent  of  the 
Will  to  them  ;  but  are  voluntary ,  as  far  as  sin  has  its  residence  in  the  Will.  I 
know  no  greater  burden  in  the  life  of  a  believer  than  these  involuntary  sur- 
prisals  of  the  soul ;  involuntary,  I  say,  as  to  the  actual  [i.  e.,  deliberately 
conscious]  consent  of  the  Will,  but  not  so  in  respect  of  that  corruption  ivhich  it 
in  the  Will ,  and  is  the  principle  of  them. 

Owen,  Indwelling  Sin,  Chapter  VI. 


238 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


It  will  be  apparent,  from  what  has  been  said,  that  we 
regard  the  Arminian  idea  of  the  Will,  and  of  self-deter¬ 
mination,  to  be  altogether  inadequate  to  the  purpose 
intended  by  it.  The  motive  of  this  school,  we  are  charita¬ 
ble  enough  to  believe,  was  in  many  instances  a  good  one. 
It  desired  to  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  man  —  to 
make  man  responsible  for  his  character  —  but  it  ended  in 
the  annihilation  of  all  sin  except  that  of  volitions;  of  all 
sin  except  what  is  technically  called  actual  sin,  because 
its  view  of  the  Will  was  not  profound  enough.  And  as 
we  wish  to  bring  out  into  as  clear  a  light  as  possible  the 
difference  between  the  Arminian  self-determination,  and 
what  we  suppose  to  be  the  true  doctrine,  let  us  for  a 
moment  exhibit  the  relation  of  both  theories  to  “  the 
doctrine  of  inability,”  as  it  is  familiarly  styled. 

According  to  the  Arminian  school,  the  Will  is  merely 
the  faculty  of  choices ;  and  its  action  consists  solely  in 
volitions.  Self-determination,  consequently,  is  the  ability 
to  put  forth  a  volition.  Now,  as  a  volition  is  confessed]  y 
under  the  arbitrary  control  of  a  man,  it  follows,  that  he 
has  the  ability  to  put  forth  (so-called)  holy  or  sinful 
volitions  at  pleasure ;  and  inasmuch  as  no  deeper  action 
of  the  Will  than  this  volitionary  action  is  recognized  in 
the  scheme,  it  follows,  that  he  has  the  ability  to  be  holy 
or  sinful  at  pleasure.  This  is  the  “  power  to  the  con¬ 
trary,”  which  even  sinful  man  has;  although  the  more 

Owen,  in  the  above  extract  plainly  distinguishes  between  voluntary  and 
volitionary  action  :  between  the  immanent  self-determination  of  the  Voluntas , 
and  the  deliberate  and  conscious  (“  actual”)  action  of  the  Arbiirium.  The 
old  writers  often  denominate  the  disposition  or  nature  in  the  Will,  activity. 
Owen  speaks  of  the  Christian  affections  as  the  “ actings ”  of  the  soul;  e.  g., 
u  Christians  are  able  to  discern  spiritual  things,  sweetly  and  genuinely  to 
act  faith,  love,  submission  to  God,  and  that  in  a  high  and  eminent  manner.” 
(On  Forgiveness  Rule  VI ).  Edwards  speaks  of  original  sin  as  the  “leading 
act,  or  inclination.” 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


239 


thoughtful  portion  of  the  school  freely  acknowledge  that 
it  is  never  exercised,  as  matter  of  fact,  except  under  the 
co-operating  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  view  of 
the  Will,  and  of  self-determination,  then,  teaches  theore¬ 
tically,  at  all  events,  the  doctrine  of  man’s  ability  to 
regenerate  himself.  There  is  no  other  action  of  the  Will 
than  that  of  single  volitions,  and  over  these  man  has 
arbitrary  power. 

But  the  true  idea  of  the  Will,  and  of  self-determination, 
while  bringing  man  in  guilty  for  his  sinful  nature  and 
conduct,  forbids  the  attribution  to  him  of  a  self-regenera¬ 
ting  power.  According  to  the  Arminian  theory,  all  the 
action  of  the  Will  consists  of  volitions,  and  one  volition 
being  as  much  within  the  power  of  the  man  as  another, 
a  succeeding  volition  can  at  any  moment  reverse  and 
undo  the  preceding.  But,  according  to  what  we  suppose 
to  be  the  true  view  of  the  Will,  there  is  an  action  of  this 
voluntary  power  far  deeper,  and  consequently  far  less 
easily  managed  than  that  of  single  choices.  We  have 
spoken  of  a  deep  and  central  action  of  the  Will,  which 
consists  in  the  determination  and  tendency  of  the  whole 
soul  and  of  the  soul  as  a  u'hole,  and  which  results  in  the 
origination  of  an  inclination,  a  disposition,  a  nature,  in 
distinction  from  a  volition,  or  a  resolution.  We  have 
spoken  of  a  movement  in  the  voluntary  power  that  carries 
the  whole  inward  being  along  with  it.  Now  it  is  plain 
that  such  a  power  as  this  —  including  so  much,  and  run¬ 
ning  so  deep  —  cannot,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case, 
be  such  a  facile  and  easily  managed  power,  as  that  by 
which  we  resolve  to  do  some  particular  thing  in  every 
day  life.  While,  therefore,  we  affirm  that  the  Will,  using 
the  term  in  the  comprehensive  sense  in  which  we  have 
defined  it,  is  a  freely  self-determined  powrer,  we  deny, 
that  having  once  taken  its  direction,  it  can  reverse  its 


24:0 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


motion  by  a  volition  or  resolution.  If  the  Will  were 
only  the  faculty  of  choices  or  volitions,  this  might  be  the 
case ;  but  that  deep  under  current,  that  central  self-deter¬ 
mination,  that  great  main  tendency  of  the  Will  to  self 
and  sin  as  an  ultimate  end,  cannot  be  reversed  and  over¬ 
come  by  any  power  less  profound  and  central,  to  say  the 
very  least,  than  itself.  Surface  action  cannot  reverse  and 
overcome  central  action.  And  we  have  only  to  take  the 
Will  as  thus  conceived,  and  steadily  eye  it  in  this  free 
process  of  self-determination,  to  see  that  there  is  no  power 
in  this  central  tendency  itself,  from  the  very  nature  of  the 
case,  by  which  the  direction  of  its  movement  can  be 
altered.  Take  and  hold  the  sinful  Will  of  man,  in  this 
steady,  this  inmost,  this  total  determination  of  itself  to 
self  as  the  ultimate  end  of  its  existence,  and  say  how  the 
power  that  is  to  reverse  all  this  process  can  possibly  come 
out  of  the  Will,  thus  shut  up ,  and  entirely  swallowed ,  in 
the  process*  How  is  the  process  to  destroy  itself,  and 
turn  into  its  own  contrary  ?  How  is  Satan  to  cast  out 
Satan  ?  Having  once  set  itself,  with  all  its  energy,  in  a 
given  direction,  and  towards  a  final  end,  the  human  Will 
becomes  a  current  that  is  unmanageable  —  a  power  too 
strong  for  itself  to  turn  back  —  not  because  of  any  com- 

*“  The  Will  in  the  time  of  a  lending  act  or  inclination  that  is  diverse  from 
or  opposite  to  the  command  of  God.  and  when  actually  under  the  influence 
of  it,  is  not  able  to  exert  itself  to  the  contrary ,  to  make  an  alteration  in  order  to 
a  compliance.  The  inclination  is  unable  to  change  itself:  and  that  for  this 
plain  reason  that  it  is  unable  to  incline  to  change  itself.  Present  choice 
cannot  at  present  choose  to  be  otherwise :  for  that  would  be  at  present  to 
choose  something  diverse  from  what  is  at  present  chosen.  If  the  will,  all 
things  now  considered,  inclines  or  chooses  to  go  that  way,  then  it  cannot 
choose,  all  things  now  considered,  to  go  the  other  way,  and  so  cannot 
choose  to  be  made  to  go  the  other  way.  To  suppose,  that  the  mind  is  now 
sincerely  inclined  to  change  itself  to  a  different  inclination,  is  to  suppose 
the  mind  is  now  truly  inclined  otherwise  than  it  is  now  inclined.” 

Edwards  on  the  Will,  Part  III.  Section  4. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


24: 1 


pulsion  or  stress  from  without,  be  it  observed,  but  simply 
because  of  its  own  momentum  and  comprehensiveness  — * 
simply  because  of  the  obstinate  and  all-engrossing  energy 
with  which  it  is  perversely  going  in  the  contrary  direction. 
For  the  whole  Will  is  determined,  if  determined  at  all. 
The  depravity  is  total.  Consequently,  when  a  tendency 
or  determination,  as  distinguished  from  a  volition,  has 
been  taken,  there  is  no  remainder  of  uncommitted  power 
in  reserve,  (as  it  were  behind  the  existing  determination 
or  tendency,)  by  which  the  present  moral  state  of  the 
Will  can  be  reversed.  For  this  determination  or  per¬ 
manent  state  of  the  Will,  as  we  have  observed  again  and 
again,  is  something  very  different  from  a  volition,  which 
does  not  carry  the  whole  soul  along  with  it,  and  which 
therefore  may  be  reversed  by  another  volition  back  of  it. 
When  a  determination  has  occurred,  and  a  nature  has 
been  originated,  the  Will  proper  —  the  whole  voluntary 
power — is  in  for  it ;  and  hence,  in  the  case  of  sin,  the 
bondage  in  the  very  seat  of  freedom  —  the  absolute  ina¬ 
bility  to  be  holy,  springing  out  of,  and  identical  with,  the 
total  determination  to  be  evil  —  which  is  a  self-determi¬ 
nation.* 


*  This  non-returning  character  of  the  will,  is  noticed  by  that  subtlest  and 
most  spiritual  of  the  Schoolmen,  Anselm.  Justo  namque  judicio  Dei 
decretum  erat,  et  quasi  chirographo  confirmatum,  ut  homo,  qui  sponte 
peceaverat,  nec  peccatum,  nec  poenam  peceati,  per  se  vitare  posset ;  est 
enim  spiritus  (by  which  Anselm  here  means  voluntas)  vadens,  et  non  rediens  ; 
et  qui  facit  peccatum,  serous  est  peccati. 

Cur  Deus  Homo.  Liber  I.  Cap.  YIT. 

It  may  be  briefly  remarked  here,  that  the  whole  controversy  respecting 
original  Sin  has  turned  upon  the  conception  of  voluntary  action  held  by  the 
disputing  parties.  In  the  Latin  anthropology,  this  was,  simply  and  only, 
the  power  of  se//’-determination.  That  which  is  seV/'-moved  is  voluntary,  by 
virtue  of  this  bare  fact  of  seZ/’-motion.  Neither  the  presence  nor  the  absence 
of  a  power  to  the  contrary,  can  destroy  the  existing  fact  that  the  will  is 
moving  spontaneously  and  without  external  compulsion,  and  hence  the 


242 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


It  will  be  seen,  that  according  to  this  theory,  the  free¬ 
dom  of  the  Will  does  not  consist  in  the  ability  to  origin¬ 
ate  a  holy  or  sinful  nature  at  any  instant,  and  according 
to  the  caprice  of  the  individual.  It  does  not  consist  in 
the  ability  to  determine  itself  to  good  or  evil,  as  an  ulti¬ 
mate  end  of  existence,  with  the  same  facility  and  agility 
with  which  single  choices  can  be  exercised.  It  does  not 
consist  in  an  ability  to  jerk  over  from  one  moral  state  of 
the  will,  into  a  contrary  moral  state ,  at  any  moment,  by 
a  violent  or  a  resolute  effort.  The  doctrine  of  the  free¬ 
dom  of  the  Will  does  indeed  require  us  to  affirm  that  the 
Will  is  primarily  and  constantly  seZ/’-moved —  that  its 
permanent  tendency  and  character  is  not  imposed  upon 
it,  as  the  tendency  of  the  brute  is  imposed  upon  it,  by  the 
creative  act ;  but  the  doctrine  does  not  require  us  to 
affirm,  that  when  the  Will  has  once  freely  formed  its 
character,  and  responsibly  originated  its  nature,  it  can 
then,  ad  libitum,  or  by  any  power  then  possessed  by  it, 
form  a  contrary  character,  and  originate  an  entirely  con¬ 
trary  nature  within  itself.  All  that  is  to  be  claimed  is, 
that  at  the  initial  point  in  the  history  of  the  human  Will, 
a  free  and  responsible  start  shall  be  taken,  a  self-deter¬ 
mination  shall  begin  and  continue.  It  is  not  to  be  af¬ 
firmed,  for  it  contradicts  the  experience  of  every  man 
who  has  had  any  valuable  experience  upon  this  subject, 
that  there  is  power  in  the  will  to  cross  and  re-cross  from 
a  sinful  to  a  holy  state ,  and  back  again,  at  any  moment  — 

power  to  the  contrary  did  not  enter  as  a  sine  qua  non  into  the  Latin  idea  of 
moral  agency.  It  might  be  lost,  and  actually  had  been,  and  the  will  still 
be  a  scT/’-determined  faculty.  In  the  Greek  anthropology,  on  the  contrary, 
voluntariness  was  ^determination.  The  will,  whether  fallen  or  unfallen 
at  all  times  and  in  all  conditions,  could  either  choose  or  refuse  the  same 
object.  But  that  it  might  do  so,  it  must  be  itself  in  a  state  of  equilibrium 
or  indifferency,  and  not  actually  committed  or  determined  either  one  way  or  the 
other. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


243 


that  the  Will  is  in  such  an  indifferent  state  in  regard  to 
the  two  meat  ultimate  ends  of  action- — God  and  self — ■ 

O 

that  it  stands  affected  in  precisely  the  same  way  towards 
both,  and  by  a  volition  can  choose  either  at  pleasure. 

(2.)  The  foregoing  statement,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  suffi¬ 
cient  to  exhibit,  so  far  as  the  limits  of  an  article  will 
allow,  what  is  conceived  to  be  the  true  idea  of  the  Will, 
and  of  self-determination,  in  distinction  from  the  Armi- 
nian  view  of  them.  We  turn  now  to  the  relation  of 
original  sin  to  Adam,  the  head  and  representative  of  the 
race  of  mankind.  There  is  not  space  to  examine  the 
passages  of  Scripture  which  speak  of  the  connection  of 
the  individual  with  Adam.  We  shall  assume,  that  such 
a  connection  is  plainly  taught  in  Scripture,  particularly 
in  the  5th  chapter  of  Romans ;  and  at  the  same  time 
barely  call  attention  to  the  fact,  that  the  soundest  creeds 
of  the  Church,  and  that  of  the  Westminster  Assembly  in 
particular,  have  all  recognized  the  connection.  Our 
object  is  to  see  if  the  views  that  have  been  presented  will 
not  throw  some  light  upon  one  of  the  darkest  points  in 
speculative  theology. 

It  will  be  recollected,  that  in  the  first  part  of  this 
article,  it  was  shown  that  the  deepest  and  ultimate  form 
of  sin  is  below  the  sphere  of  consciousness  —  that  we  are 
not  conscious  of  the  sinful  nature,  but  only  of  what  pro¬ 
ceeds  from  it.  It  will  also  be  remembered,  that  this 
original  sin,  or  sinful  nature,  has  been  traced  to  the  Will 
as  its  originating  cause,  and  thereby  found  to  be  a  guilty 
nature.  If,  now,  these  two  points  have  been  made  out, 
it  follows  as  a  corollary,  that  there  is  an  action  of  the 
human  Will  deeper  than  the  ordinary  consciousness  of 
man  reaches.  If  man  is  not  conscious  of  his  sinful 
nature,  and  if,  nevertheless,  that  nature  is  the  product  of 
his  Will  —  is  the  very  state  of  the  Will  itself —  it  follows, 


244  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 

that  his  Will  can  put  forth  an  action  of  which  he  is  not 
conscious.  And  if  this  be  so,  it  furthermore  follows,  that 
distinct  consciousness  is  not  an  indispensable  condition 
to  the  origin  and  existence  of  sin  and  guilt  in  the  hu¬ 
man  soul. 

We  are  as  well  aware  as  any  body,  that  a  statement 
like  this  seems  to  carry  on  the  very  face  of  it,  not  a  mys- 
tery  merely,  but  an  absurdity.  At  first  sight,  it  seems  to 
be  self-contradictory  to  affirm,  that  the  responsible  action 
of  a  free  moral  agent  can  go  on  in  utter  unconsciousness 
of  the  action  —  that  the  human  Will  can  put  forth  its 
most  important  action,  (action  the  most  criminal,  and 
the  most  tremendous  in  its  consequences,)  in  a  sphere 
too  deep  for  the  agent  to  know  what  he  is  doing.  On 
the  contrary,  it  seems  to  be  plain  as  an  axiom,  that 
knowledge  must  in  every  instance  precede  action  —  that 
the  Will  cannot  act  without  first  distinctly  knowing 
what  it  is  going  to  do.  And  accordingly,  this  is  the  po¬ 
sition  laid  down  in  the  beginning  of  all  the  current  trea¬ 
tises  on  the  Will. 

Now,  without  entering  into  any  process  of  ratiocina¬ 
tion  to  support  a  mere  theory,  we  wish  to  raise  a  simple 
question  of  fact.  Is  it,  then,  a  fact,  that  man  is  conscious 
of  all  the  action  of  his  will  ?  Is  it  a  fact,  that  from  the 
commencement  of  his  existence,  on  and  down  through 
every  moment  of  his  existence,  he  is  unintermittently  self- 
conscious  of  what  he  is  all  the  while  doing  as  a  moral 
agent?  Is  it  a  fact,  that  the  impenitent  sinner  —  the 
thoughtless  sinner,  as  we  so  often  call  him  in  our  sermons 
—  is  aware  every  moment  of  what  he  is  about  ?  No  man 
will  pretend  that  such  is  the  fact.  Saying  nothing  in 
regard  to  that  deeper  action  of  the  Will,  which  we  have 
denominated  its  determination,  no  one  will  say  That  a 
man  is  distinctly  conscious  of  all  his  volitions  even.  *  f 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


245 


each  and  every  one  of  the  millions  of  choices  which  he 
is  exercising  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Even  here,  so 
near  the  surface  of  the  soul,  and  with  reference  to  its 
most  palpable  exercises,  no  one  will  be  bold  enough  to 
affirm  a  distinct  consciousness  in  every  instance.  Voli¬ 
tion  after  volition,  choice  after  choice,  is  exercised  by  the 
unawakened ,  unanxious  sinner,  with  all  the  unconscious¬ 
ness  and  mechanism,  so  to  speak,  with  which  the  two 
thousand  volitions  by  which  he  lifts  his  legs  two  thou¬ 
sand  times  in  walking  a  single  mile,  are  exercised.* 

Take  the  first  sinful  man  you  meet,  and  say  how  much 
of  his  daily  existence  goes  on  within  the  sphere  of  self- 
consciousness.  During  how  many  moments  of  the  day 
is  this  moral  agent  aware  of  what  he  is  doing,  as  a  moral 
agent  ?  Of  how  many  of  the  volitions  which  he  puts 
forth  in  the  attainment  of  his  ends  of  living  is  he  dis¬ 
tinctly  conscious  ?  How  many  of  his  emotions  are  exer¬ 
cised  in  the  clear  light  of  self-consciousness,  so  that  he  has 
a  distinct  knowledge  and  sense  of  their  moral  character  ? 
Is  it  not  safe  to  say,  that  whole  days,  it  may  be  whole 
weeks,  and  it  may  be  whole  months,  pass  in  the  lives  of 
many  men,  during  which  there  is  not  a  single  instant  of 
distinct  consciousness,  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  agen¬ 
cies  going  on  within  their  souls  ?  And  will  it  do  to  say, 
that  all  this  while  there  is  no  action  of  the  Will  ? 

The  truth  is,  we  cannot  lay  aside  pre-conceived  opin¬ 
ions,  and  look  at  the  simple  facts  of  the  case,  without 
being  compelled  to  the  position,  that  there  not  only  can 
be,  but  there  actually  is,  action  of  the  Will  that  is  not 


*  That  the  action  in  this  instance  is  voluntary,  in  the  sense  that  the  mus¬ 
cles  and  limbs  are  moved  ultimately  by  acts  of  the  choice,  is  proved  by  the 
fact,  that  the  man  can  stop  walking.  If  it  were  strictly  mechanical  and  in- 
voluntary,  the  walker  must  go  on  like  a  clock  until  his  ambulatory  appara 
tus  ran  down. 


246 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


self-conscious  action,  and  a  vast  amount  of  it.  And  this 
too,  whether  the  Will  be  regarded  as  the  volitionary  or 
as  the  voluntary  faculty.  If  we  believe  the  Scripture 
doctrine,  that  man  is  evil  continually ,  we  must  also  be¬ 
lieve,  that  the  Will  of  man  is  in  continual  action  —  ab¬ 
sorbed  in  an  uninterrupted  tendency  and  determination 
to  self.  The  motion  —  the  klvi)ctls, —  is  incessant.  But 
we  know  from  observation,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that 
man  is  not  distinctly  conscious  of  a  thousandth  part  of 
this  process,  which  is  nevertheless  steadily  going  on, 
whether  he  thinks  of  it  or  not,  whether  he  is  aware  of  it 
or  not.  If,  now,  while  affirming,  as  we  must,  that  there  is 
no  responsible  action  but  action  of  the  Will,  we  also  affirm, 
as  we  must  not,  that  there  is  no  action  of  the  Will  but 
conscious  action,  we  remove  responsibility  from  the 
greater  part  of  human  life.  Responsibility  and  criminal¬ 
ity  would,  in  this  case,  cleave  only  to  that  comparatively 
infinitesimal  part  of  a  man’s  life  during  which  he  sinned 
deliberately,  and  with  the  consciousness  that  he  was  sin- 
ning.  Furthermore,  it  would  follow,  from  this  doctrine, 
that  the  more  entire  the  man’s  absorption  in  evil  —  the 
more  thoughtless  and  unconscious  his  life  became  in  re¬ 
gard  to  sin  —  the  less  responsible  he  would  be ;  the  more 
depraved,  the  less  guilty. 

But  in  this  instance  again,  as  in  a  former,  whatever 
may  be  our  theory,  we  do  practically  acknowledge  the 
truth  of  the  doctrine  of  the  responsible  action  of  the 
human  Will,  even  when  there  is,  or  has  been,  no  distinct 
consciousness  of  it.  The  great  aim  of  every  awakening 
sermon  that  we  preach,  is  to  bring  the  sinner  to  the  distinct 
perception  of  what  he  is ,  and  is  doing ,  as  a  free  moral 
agent.  And  observe,  the  aim  of  the  sermon  is  not  simply  to 
aid  the  memory  of  the  sinner  —  to  furnish  him  an  inyen- 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


247 


tor}’  or  catalogue  of  his  past  transgressions  —  but,  in  the 
strict  meaning  of  the  expressive  phrase,  to  bring"  him  to  — 
to  bring  him  to  himself.  The  object  of  every  awakening 
sermon,  and  the  end  had  in  view  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
when  He  kets  it  home,  is  to  bring  the  sinner  to  a  distinct 
self-consciousness  in  regard  to  sin  —  to  make  him  realize 
the  awful  truth,  that  during  his  whole  past  life  of  thought¬ 
lessness  and  unconsciousness  of  what  he  has  been,  and 
been  about,  his  Will  has  been  active,  and  that  from  the 
inmost  centre  to  the  outward  circumference,  this  action 
has  been  criminal  ;  and  still  more  than  this,  to  make  him 
realize,  that  now ,  at  this  very  instant,  his  Will  is  set¬ 
ting  itself  with  a  deep,  and  as  yet  to  him,  unconscious 
determination  towards  evil,  as  an  ultimate  end  of  action. 
The  object  of  conviction,  in  short,  is  to  impart  to  the 
sinner  a  conscious  knowledge  of  that  sin,  the  major  part 
of  which  came  into  existence  without  his  conscious 
knowledge,  but  by  no  means  without  his  Will. 

We  need  only  take  a  passage  that  frequently  occurs 
in  the  common  Christian  experience  to  see  the  truth  of 
the  view  here  presented.  How  often  the  Christian  finds 
himself  already  in  a  train  of  thought,  or  of  feeling,  that 
is  contrary  to  the  divine  law.  Notice  that  he  did  not  go 
into  this  train  of  thought  or  feeling  deliberately,  and  with 
a  distinct  consciousness  of  what  he  was  doing.  The 
first  he  knows  is,  that  he  is  already  caught  in  the  pro¬ 
cess.  Thought  and  feeling  in  this  instance  have  been 
unconsciously  exercised  in  accordance  with  that  central 
and  abiding  determination  of  the  Will  towards  self,  of 
which  we  have  spoken ;  in  other  words,  the  Will  has 
been  unconsciously  putting  forth  its  action,  in  and  through 
the  powers  of  thought  and  feeling,  as  the  self-reproach 
and  sense  of  guilt  consequent  upon  such  exercises  of  the 


248 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


soul,  are  proof  positive*  The  moment  the  Christian 
man  comes  to  distinct  consciousness  in  regard  to  this  ac¬ 
tion  that  has  been  going  on,  “  without  his  thinking  of 
it,*’  (as  we  say  in  common  parlance,)  he  acknowledges  it 
as  criminal  action,  responsible  action,  action  of  the 
Will.  The  fact  that  he  was  not  thinking  —  that  the 
M  ill  was  acting  unconsciously —  subtracts  nothing  from 
his  sense  of  guilt  in  the  case. 

And  if  there  is  unconscious  action  of  the  Will  in  these 
instances,  which  occur  in  the  every-day  experience  of 
the  individual  Christian,  much  more  should  we  expect 
to  find  unconscious  action  in  the  case  of  that  deepest 
and  primal  movement  of  the  Will  which  is  denominated 
the  Fall.  If,  in  the  instance  of  the  development  or  un¬ 
folding  of  sin,  there  is  much  of  this  unconscious  volun¬ 
tary  action,  much  more  should  we  expect  to  find  it  in 
that  instance  when  the  profound  basis  itself,  for  this  de¬ 
velopment,  was  laid.  If  there  is  mystery  in  the  stalk 
above  ground,  much  more  must  we  expect  to  find  it  in 
the  dark  long  root  under  ground.  The  fall  of  the  human 
Will  unquestionably  occurs  back  of  consciousness,  and  in 
a  region  beyond  the  reach  of  it.  Certainly  no  one  of 
the  posterity  of  Adam  was  ever  conscious  of  that  act 
whereby  his  Will  fell  from  God ;  and  even  with  regard 
to  Adam  himself,  the  remark  of  Augustine  is  true  — 
that  he  had  already  fallen  before  he  ate  the  forbidden 
fruit.  This  remark  is  strictly  true,  and  characterized  by 
those  two  traits  in  which  Augustine  never  had  a  supe¬ 
rior —  depth  and  penetration.  The  act  of  conscious 
transgression  in  the  case  of  Adam  sprung  from  an  evil 

*  It  is  evident  that  there  may  be  thinking  without  thinking  of  thinking, 
as  there  may  be  acting  without  thinking  of  acting.  In  these  instances  there 
is  both  thought  and  action  without  self-consciousness  of  either. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


249 


nature  that  had  already  been  unconsciously  generated  in 
his  Will.  He  would  not  have  eaten  of  the  tree,  if  he 
had  not  in  his  soul  already  fallen  from  God. 

We  may,  in  this  connection,  add  furthermore,  that  the 
other  great  change  which  occurs  in  the  human  Will — * 
viz.,  its  renovation  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  its  determi¬ 
nation  to  God  as  an  ultimate  end,  consequent  thereon  — 
also  occurs  below  the  sphere  of  consciousness.  All  ac¬ 
knowledge  that  there  is  no  consciousness  of  the  regenerat¬ 
ing  act  itself,  but  only  of  its  consequences ;  and  yet  even 
the  most  careful  theologian  must  acknowledge,  that  there 
is  action  of  the  Will  of  some  sort  in  this  instance  ;  that 
the  renovating  action  is  in  the  Will  and  in  accordance 
with  its  freedom,  though  by  no  means,  as  in  the  case  of 
sin,  to  be  referred  solely  to  the  Will. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show,  that,  unless  we  would 
unclothe  most  of  human  existence  of  its  responsibility, 
we  must  assume  the  possibility  and  reality  of  an  action 
of  the  Will,  which  is  unaccompanied  by  distinct  con¬ 
sciousness  on  the  part  of  the  individual  man.  And  this 
is  eminently  true  of  that  deepest  action  of  the  Will, 
by  which  a  nature  is  generated,  and  a  character  is  origi¬ 
nated.  That  action  of  the  human  Will,  which  is  denom¬ 
inated  its  fall,  which  lies  under  the  whole  sinful  history 
and  development  of  the  individual  man  — -  which  is 
the  ground  and  source  of  all  his  conscious  transgres¬ 
sion —  is,  without  contradiction,  unconscious  action.  The 
moral  consciousness  of  man,  taken  at  its  very  rise,  is  the 
consciousness  of  guilt  —  which  fact  shows  that  the  re¬ 
sponsible  action,  lying  under  it,  as  its  just  cause  and 
valid  ground,  has  already  occurred.  If  there  is  any  guilt 
in  falling  from  God ,  the  human  soul  incurs  that  guilt  in 
every  instance ,  without  distinct  consciousness  of  the  process 
by  which  it  is  brought  about.  If  the  origination  of  a  sinful 


250 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


nature  —  of  an  abiding  wrong  state  of  the  Will — is  a  crim¬ 
inal  procedure  on  the  part  of  the  soul,  and  justly  exposes 
it  to  the  Divine  Anger,  it  is  yet  a  procedure  that  occurs 
unconsciously  to  the  soul  itself.  And  in  saying  this,  we 
are  manufacturing  no  theory,  but  simply  setting  forth  the 
simple  actual  facts  of  the  case.  There  is  no  avoiding  the 
conclusion,  unless  we  are  bold  enough  to  affirm  that  only 
that  portion  of  a  sinner’s  life  is  responsible  and  guilty, 
during  which  he  sins  deliberately,  and  with  the  con¬ 
sciousness  that  he  is  sinning. 

We  have  called  attention  to  this  fact,  that  the  human 
Will  can  and  does  put  forth  its  deepest  action  below  the 
sphere  of  consciousness,  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  in¬ 
vestigation  of  the  connection  of  original  sin,  as  found  in 
each  individual,  with  the  fall  of  Adam.  If  this  hypo¬ 
thesis  of  the  unconscious  action  of  the  Will  has  been 
established,  the  only  serious  objection  will  have  been  re¬ 
moved,  that  can  be  made  to  what  we  suppose  is  the 
Scriptural  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  the  connec¬ 
tion  of  the  individual  with  Adam,  contained  in  the  West¬ 
minster  Assembly’s  Catechism.  According  to  the  form 
of  doctrine  laid  down  by  that  body  of  profound  and 
learned  divines,  each  individual  of  the  human  race  is 
supposed  to  have  been  in  some  way  responsibly  present 
in  Adam,  and  responsibly  sharing  in  his  apostasy  from 
God.  •  The  statement  in  the  creed  which  they  drew  up, 
is  as  follows :  —  “  The  covenant  being  made  with  Adam, 
not  only  for  himself  but  for  his  posterity,  all  mankind 
descending  from  him  by  ordinary  generation  sinned  in 
him  and  fell  with  him  in  his  first  transgression.”  And 
the  two  strongest  texts  which  they  cite  in  proof  of  the 
truth  of  their  creed,  are  these :  “  By  one  man’s  disobe¬ 
dience,  many  were  made  sinners.”  (Rom  5  :  19.)  “  In 

Adam  all  die.”  (1  Cor.  15 :  22.) 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


251 


Now  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  these  men  were 
making  distinct  and  scientific  statements,  and  their  lan¬ 
guage,  consequently,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  merely 
metaphorical.  It  must,  therefore,  be  understood  in  the 
same  way  that  scientific  language  is  always  to  be  un¬ 
derstood —  be  taken  in  its  literal  meaning,  unless  a 
palpable  contradiction  or  absurdity  is  involved  in  so 
doing.  In  this  doctrinal  and  scientific  statement,  then, 
it  is  affirmed,  that  all  men  sinned  in  Adam,  and  fell 
with  Adam  in  his  first  transgression.  This  implies  and 
teaches  that  all  men  were,  in  some  sense,  co-existent  in 
Adam,  otherwise  they  could  not  have  sinned  in  him.  It 
teaches  that  all  men  were,  in  some  sense,  co-agent  in 
Adam,  otherwise  they  could  not  have  fallen  with  him. 
The  mode  of  this  co-existence  and  co-agency  of  the 
whole  human  race  in  the  first  man,  they  do  not,  it  is 
true,  attempt  to  set  forth ;  but  their  language  distinctly 
implies  that  they  believed  there  was  such  a  co-existence 
and  co-agency,  whether  it  could  be  explained  or  not. 
They  regarded  Adam  not  merely  as  an  individual,  but 
as  a  common  person  ;  as  having  a  generic  as  well  as  in¬ 
dividual  character.  They  taught  that  he  was  substan¬ 
tially  the  race  of  mankind,  and  that  his  whole  posterity 
existed  in  him.  Consequently,  whatever  befell  Adam, 
befell  the  race.  In  Adam’s  fall,  the  race  fell.  And  what 
is  to  be  particularly  noted  is,  that  they  did  not  regard 
the  fall  of  Adam  considered  as  an  individual,  as  any 
more  guilty  than  the  fall  of  each  and  every  one  of 
his  posterity,  or  that  original  sin  was  any  the  less  guilt 
in  his  posterity  than'  it  was  in  him.  So  far  as  responsi¬ 
bility  was  concerned,  Adam  and  his  posterity  were  all 
alike  guilty  of  apostasy.  They  were  all  involved  in  a 
common  condemnation,  because  they  were  all  alike  con¬ 
current  in  the  fall.  The  race  fell  in  Adam,  and  conse* 


252 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


quently  each  individual  of  the  race  was  in  some  mysteri¬ 
ous  yet  real  manner,  existent  in  this  common  parent  of 
all.* 


*  This  phraseology  is  not  to  be  understood  as  implying  that  the  indivi¬ 
dual  is  in  the  genus  as  a  distinct  individual.  Adam,  as  the  generic  man, 
was  not  a  mere  receptacle  containing  millions  of  separate  individuals. 
The  genus  is  not  an  aggregation,  but  a  single,  simple,  essence.  As  such ,  it 
is  not  yet  characterized  by  individuality.  It,  however,  becomes  varied  and 
manifold  by  being  individualized  in  its  propagation ,  or  development  into  a 
series.  The  individual  consequently  (with  the  exception  of  the  first  man, 
who  is  immediately  created,  and  is  both  individual  and  generic)  is  al¬ 
ways  the  result  of  propagation,  and  not  of  creation.  In  the  instance  of 
man,  the  creation  proper  is  the  origination  of  the  generic  species,  which 
species  is  individualized  in  its  propagation  under  the  preserving,  and  provi¬ 
dential,  (but  not  now  creating,)  agency  of  the  Creator.  The  individual,  as 
such ,  is  consequently  only  a  subsequent  modus  existendi;  the  first  and  ante¬ 
cedent  mode  being  the  generic  humanity,  of  which  this  subsequent  serial 
mode  is  only  another  aspect  or  manifestation.  Had  the  members  of  the 
series  of  human  generations  existed  in  their  proper  individuality  in  the  pro¬ 
genitor,  there  would  have  been  no  need  of  the  subsequent  process  of  indivi¬ 
dualization ,  or  propagation. 

The  doctrine  of  Traducianism  is  unquestionably  more  accordant  with 
that  of  original  sin  than  that  of  Creationism ,  and  the  only  reason  why  Au¬ 
gustine,  and  others  after  him,  hesitated  with  regard  to  its  formal  adoption, 
was  its  supposed  incompatibility  with  the  doctrine  of  the  soul;s  immaterial¬ 
ity  and  immortality.  If,  however,  the  distinction  between  creation  and 
development  be  clearly  conceived  and  rigorously  observed,  it  will  be  seen 
that  there  is  no  danger  of  materialism  in  the  doctrine  of  the  soul’s  propaga¬ 
tion.  For  development  cannot  change  the  essence  of  that  which  is  being 
developed.  It  must  unfold  that,  and  only  that,  which  is  given  in  creation. 
Now,  granting  the  creation  of  the  generic  man  in  his  totality  of  soul  and 
body ,  it  is  plain  that  his  mere  individualization  by  propagation  must  leave 
both  his  physical  and  spiritual  natures  as  it  found  them,  so  far  as  this  dis¬ 
tinction  between  mind  and  matter  is  concerned.  For  matter  cannot  be 
converted  into  mind  by  mere  expansion,  and  neither  can  mind  be  changed 
into  matter  by  it.  Both  parts  of  man  will,  therefore,  preserve  their  origin¬ 
al  created  qualities  and  characteristics  in  this  process  of  propagation,  or  in¬ 
dividualizing  of  the  generic,  which  is  conducted,  moreover,  beneath  the  pre¬ 
serving  and  providential  agency  of  the  Creator.  That  which  is  flesh  will 
be  propagated  as  Jlesh,  and  that  which  is  spirit  will  be  propagated  as  spirit, 
and  this  because  mere  propagation,  or  development,  cannot  change  the  kind 
or  essence.  If,  therefore,  it  is  conceded  that  the  creation  or  man  was  com - 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


253 


It  is  on  this  ground  that  they  taught  that  original  sin 
is  real  sin  —  is  miilt.  The  sinful  nature  they  held,  could 
be  properly  charged  upon  every  child  of  Adam,  as  a  na¬ 
ture  for  which  he.  and  not  his  Creator,  was  responsible, 
and  which  rendered  him  obnoxious  to  the  eternal  dis¬ 
pleasure  of  God  —  even  though,  as  in  the  case  of  infants 
dying  before  the  dawn  of  self-consciousness,  this  nature 
should  never  have  manifested  itself  in  conscious  trails- 
session.  Every  child  of  Adam  fell  from  God.  in  Adam, 
and  together  with  Adam,  and  therefore  is  justly  charge¬ 
able  with  all  that  Adam  is  chargeable  with,  and  precise¬ 
ly  on  the  same  ground,  yiz.,  on  the  ground  that  his  fall 
was  not  necessitated,  but  self-determined.  For  the  Will 
of  Adam  was  not  the  Will  of  a  single  isolated  indivi- 
dnal  merely :  it  was  also,  and  besides  this,  the  Will  of 
the  human  species  —  the  human  Will  genetically.  If  he 
fell  freely,  so  did  his  posterity  —  yet  not  one  after  an¬ 
other.  and  each  by  himself,  as  the  series  of  individuals, 
in  which  the  one  seminal  human  nature  manifests  itself, 
were  born  into  the  world,  but  all  together  and  all  at 
once,  in  that  first  transgression,  which  stands  a  most 
awful  and  awfully  pregnant  event  at  the  beginning  of 
human  history. 

i 

The  aim  of  the  Westminster  symbol  accordingly,  and, 
it  may  be  added,  of  all  the  creeds  on  the  Aumistinian 

v  '  Co 

side  of  the  controversy,  was  to  combine  two  elements, 
each  having  truth  in  it  —  to  teach  the  fall  of  the  human 

O 

race  as  a  unity,  and,  at  the  same  time,  recognize  the  ex- 
istence,  freedom,  and  guilt  of  the  individual  in  the  fall. 
AccordinGv  they  locate  the  individual  in  Adam,  and 


plete,  involving  the  origination  from  non-entity  of  the  entire  humanity  as  a 
synthesis  of  matter  and  mind,  flesh  and  spirit,  then  it  follows  that  mere 
propagation,  taking  him  up  at  this  point,  cannot  change  the  essence  upon 
either  side  of  the  complex  being,  bat  can  only  individualize  it. 


254 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


make  him,  in  some  mysterious  but  real  manner,  a  re 
sponsible  partaker  in  Adam’s  sin  —  a  guilty  sharer,  and, 
in  some  solid  sense  of  the  word,  co-agent  in  a  common 
apostasy.  As  proof  of  this  assertion,  we  shall  quote 
from  a  few  of  the  leading  authors  on  this  side  of  the 
great  controversy. 

Augustine,  although  the  first  to  philosophize  upon  this 
difficult  point,  in  order  to  bring  it  within  the  limits  of  a 
doctrinal  system,  has,  nevertheless,  as  it  seems  to  us,  not 
been  excelled  by  any  of  his  successors  in  the  profundity 
and  comprehensiveness  of  his  views.  He  is  explicit  in 
teaching  the  oneness  of  the  human  race  in  Adam,  and 
of  the  fall  of  Adam  and  his  posterity  in  the  first  trans¬ 
gression.  In  his  work  on  the  desert  and  remission  of 
sin,  he  says :  “  All  men  at  that  time  sinned  in  Adam, 
since,  in  his  nature,  all  men  were  as  yet  that  one  man.”  * 
And  the  sentiment  is  repeated  still  more  distinctly  in 
that  most  elaborate  of  his  treatises  —  De  Civitate  Dei ;  a 
work  which  was  the  fruit  of  mature  reason,  and  ripe 
Christian  experience,  and  which,  notwithstanding  the 
crudity  of  some  of  its  speculations  on  subjects  pertain¬ 
ing  to  the  sensuous  nature  of  man,  and  to  the  physical 
nature  generally,  is  unrivalled  for  the  depth  and  clear¬ 
ness  of  its  insight  into  all  that  is  distinctively  and  pure¬ 
ly  spiritual.  u  We  were  all  in  that  one  man,  since  we 
ivere  all  that  one  man,  who  lapsed  into  sin  through  that 
woman,  who  was  made  from  him  previous  to  trans¬ 
gression.  The  form  in  which  ice  were  to  live  as  individ¬ 
uals  had  not  been  created  and  assigned  to  us ,  man  by  man , 
but  that  seminal  nature  was  in  existence,  from  which  we 
were  to  be  propagated.”  f  In  the  words  of  Neander, 

*  In  Adamo  omnes  tunc  peccaverunt,  quando  in  cjus  natura  adhuc  omnes 
ille  unus  fuerunt. —  De  pec.  mer.  et  rem.  III.  7. 

t  Omnes  enim  fuimus  in  illo  uno,  quando  omnes  fuimus  ille  unus,  qui 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


255 


“  Augustine,  supposed  not  only  that  that  bondage,  undei 
the  principle  of  sin,  by  which  sin  is  its  own  punishment, 
was  transmitted  by  the  progenitor  of  the  human  race  to 
his  posterity;  but  also  that  the  first  transgression,  as  an 
act,  was  to  be  imputed  to  the  whole  human  race  —  that 
the  guilt  and  the  penalty  were  propagated  from  one  to 
all.  This  participation  of  all  in  Adam’s  transgression, 
Augustine  made  clear  to  his  own  mind  in  this  way : 
Adam  was  the  representative  of  the  whole  race,  and 
bore  in  himself  the  entire  human  nature  and  kind,  in 
germ,  since  it  was  from  him  that  it  unfolded  itself.  And 
this  theory  would  easily  blend  with  Augustine’s  specula¬ 
tive  form  of  thought,  as  he  had  appropriated  to  himself 
the  Platonico- Aristotelian  realism,  in  the  doctrine  of 
general  conceptions,  and  conceived  of  general  conceptions 
as  the  original  types  of  the  kind  realized  in  individual 
things .”  * 

Calvin,  though  not  so  explicit  as  his  predecessor  Au¬ 
gustine,  or  as  some  of  his  successors,  in  regard  to  the 
precise  nature  of  the  individual’s  connection  with  Adam, 
yet  leaves  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  that  he  be¬ 
lieved  in  the  original  oneness  of  Adam  and  his  posterity, 
in  the  act  of  apostasy.  He  says :  “  It  is  certain  that 
Adam  was  not  only  the  progenitor,  but,  as  it  were,  the 
root  of  mankind,  and  therefore  all  the  race  were  necessa¬ 
rily  vitiated  in  his  corruption.”  Again  he  says :  “  He 
who  pronounces  that  we  were  all  dead  in  Adam,  does  also, 
at  the  same  time,  plainly  declare  that  we  were  implica¬ 
ted  in  the  guilt  of  his  sin.  For  no  condemnation  could 


per  feminam  lapsus  est  in  peceatum,  quae  de  illo  facta  est  ante  peocatum. 
Nondum  erat  nobis  singillatim  creata  et  distributa  forma,  in  qua  singulj 
viveremus :  sed  jam  natura  erat  seminalis  ex  qua  propagaremur. — Do  Civ 
Dei.  XIII.  14. 

*  Torrey’s  Neander,  II.  609. 


256  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 

reach  those  who  were  perfectly  clear  from  all  charge  of 
iniquity,”  [as  Adam's  posterity  would  be,  were  each  and 
every  man  merely  a  distinct  and  isolated  individual,  ex¬ 
isting  entirely  by  himself.]  Again  he  says  :  “  No  other 
explanation,  therefore,  can  be  given  of  our  being  said  to 
be  in  Adam,  than  that  his  transgression  not  only  procur¬ 
ed  misery  and  ruin  for  himself,  but  also  precipitated  our 
nature  into  similar  destruction;  and  that  not  by  his  per¬ 
sonal  guilt  as  an  individual,  which  pertains  not  to  us, 
but  because  he  infected  all  his  descendants  with  the  cor¬ 
ruption  into  which  he  had  fallen.”* 

John  Owen  is  more  explicit  still,  and  he  unquestion¬ 
ably  reflects  the  views  of  the  Westminster  divines,  to 
say  nothing  of  his  general  profundity  and  clearness  on 
all  points  of  systematic  theology.  In  his  treatise,  enti¬ 
tled  “  A  Display  of  Arminianism,”  f  in  connection  with 
some  other  answers  to  the  objection  that  original  sin  is 
not  voluntary,  and  therefore  cannot  be  sin  in  the  sense  of 
guilt,  he  expressly  affirms  that  it  is  voluntary,  in  some 
sense  of  that  word  —  that  it  has  the  element  of  free  self- 
determination  in  it.  “  But,  thirdly,”  he  says,  “  in  respect 
to  our  wills,  we  are  not  thus  innocent  neither,  for  we  all 
sinned  in  Adam,  as  the  apostle  affirmeth.  Now  all  sin  is 
voluntary,  say  the  remonstrants,  [the  party  whom  Owen 
was  opposing,  but  whose  statement  in  this  case  he  was 
willing  to  grant,]  and  therefore  Adam’s  transgression 
was  our  voluntary  sin  also,  and  that  in  divers  respects ; 
first,  in  that  his  voluntary  act  is  imputed  to  us  as  ours, 
by  reason  of  the  covenant  which  was  made  with  him  in 
our  behalf;  but  because  this  consisting  in  an  imputation, 
must  needs  be  extrinsical  to  us;  therefore,  secondly,  we 

*  Institutes,  Book  II.  Chapter  1.  Allen’s  Tran* 

t  Works,  V.  127.  Bussell’s  Ed. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


say  that  Adam,  being  the  root  and  head  of  all  human 
kind,  and  we  all  branches  from  that  root,  all  parts  of  that 
bodv  whereof  he  was  the  head,  his  will  may  be  said  to 

V  '  «/ 

be  ours ;  we  were  then  all  that  one  man,  (omnes  eramus 
unus  ille  homo,  Aug.,)  we  were  all  in  him,  and  had  no 
other  will  but  his;  so  that  though  that  (viz.,  Adam’s  will) 
be  extrinsical  unto  us,  considered  as  particular  persons, 
yet  it  (viz.,  Adam’s  will)  is  intrinsical,  as  we  are  all  parts 
of  one  common  nature  ;  as  in  him  we  sinned,  so  in  him 
we  had  a  will  of  sinning.”  In  a  passage  in  his  “  Vindi- 
c-ise  Evangelica?,”*  he  also  says.  4>  By  Adam  sin  entered 
into  the  world,  so  that  all  sinned  in  him,  and  are  made 
sinners  thereby  —  so  that  also  his  sin  is  called  the  4  sin 
of  the  world;’  in  him  all  mankind  sinned,  and  his  sin  is 
imputed  to  them.”  f 

*  Works,  Yin.  p.  222.  Russell's  Ed. 

t  This  same  reasoning,  from  the  basis  of  realism,  is  seen  in  John  Robin¬ 
son.  the  pastor  of  the  Plymouth  Pilgrims.  In  his  “  Defence  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  Synod  of  Dort."  he  answers  the  question,  Did  infants  sin  in  Adam  ? 
—  in  the  affirmative,  on  the  ground  that  they  “  had  being  in  Adam  after  a 
sort,  namely,  so  far  as  they  were  in  him-  If  they  had  being  in  Adam  any 
way,  they  had  life  also  in  him  ;  for  nothing  in  Adam  was  dead,  but  all 
living :  their  being,  therefore,  so  far  as  it  was  in  him.  was  a  living  being.” 
This  ‘  being,’  Robinson  goes  on  to  argue,  was  that  of  a  rational  existence 
composed  of  understanding  and  will.  —  Robinson's  Works,  I.  404  et  seep 
Congregational  Board's  Ed. 

Leigh,  a  graduate  of  Magdalen  Hall,  Oxford,  published  a  system  of  divin¬ 
ity  in  1654.  which  has  the  imprimatur  of  Edmund  Calamy.  In  it  we  find 
the  following  : 

“  The  first  Adam  represented  all  mankind,  and  the  second  all  the  elect 
God  might  as  icell  ground  an  imputation  on  a  natural ,  as  on  a  mystical ,  union 
Omnes  eramus  unus  ille  homo.  (Augustine)  ;  therefore  the  sin  of  that  one  man 
is  the  sin  of  us  all. 

“  Objection.  This  sin  of  Adam,  being  but  one,  could  not  defile  the  uni¬ 
versal  nature.  Socinus. 

‘'Answer.  Adam  had  in  him  the  whole  nature  of  mankind,  1  Cor.  15: 
47 :  by  one  offence  the  whole  nature  of  man  was  defiled,  Rom.  5 :  12,  17. 

“  Objection.  Adam's  sin  was  not  voluntary  in  us,  we  never  gave  consent 
to  it. 

“  Answer.  There  is  a  two-fold  will.  1 .  Voluntas  naturae ,  the  whole  nature 


258 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


One  more  quotation  shall  suffice,  in  corroboration  of 
the  view  presented  of  the  oneness  of  Adam  and  his  pos¬ 
terity,  in  respect  both  to  the  act  and  the  guilt  of  apos¬ 
tasy,  and  this  shall  be  from  Jonathan  Edwards.  In  his 

%/  ' 

treatise  upon  original  sin,  after  citing  the  passage,  u  By 
one  man  sin  entered  into  the  world,”  he  adds,  “  this  pas¬ 
sage  implies  that  sin  became  universal  in  the  world,  and 
not  merely  (which  would  be  a  trifling  insignificant  asser¬ 
tion)  that  one  man,  who  was  made  first,  sinned  first,  be- 


of  man  was  represented  in  Adam,  therefore  the  will  of  nature  was  sufficient 
to  convey  the  sin  of  nature.  2.  Voluntas  personae ,  by  every  actual  sin  we 
justify  Adam's  breach  of  covenant.  Rom.  5  :  12.  19  seems  clear  for  the  im¬ 
putation  of  Adam’s  sin.  All  were  in  Adam,  and  sinned  in  him.  as,  after 
Augustine,  Bcza  doth  interpret  £<p*  &  in  Rom.  5  :  12;  and  so  our  last  trans¬ 
lators  in  the  margent.  And  though  it  be  rendered,  4  for  that  all  have  sin¬ 
ned,’  by  us,  the  Syriac,  Erasmus,  Yatablus,  Calvin,  and  Piscatorius,  yet  jnust 
it  be  so  understood  that  all  have  sinned  in  Adam.  For  otherwise ,  it  is  not  true 
that  all  upon  whom  death  hath  passed  have  sinned ,  as  namely  infants  newly  born. 
It  is  not  said  all  are  sinners ,  but,  all  have  sinned,  which  imports  an  imputa¬ 
tion  of  Adam's  act  unto  his  posterity. 

41  Some  divines  do  not  differ  so  much  re.  as  modo  loquendi  about  this  point. 
They  grant  the  imputation  of  Adam’s  sin  to  his  posterity,  in  some  sense, 
so  as  that  there  is  a  communication  of  it  with  them,  and  the  guilt  is  charg¬ 
ed  upon  them,  yet  they  deny  the  imputation  of  it  to  posterity  as  it  was 
Adams’s  personal  sin.  But  it  is  not  to  be  considered  as  Adam's  personal 
sin,  but  as  the  sin  of  all  mankind,  whose  person  Adam  did  then  represent. 
Adam’s  personal  sin  did  infect  the  whole  nature,  and  ever  since  the  nature 
hath  infected  the  personal  actions.” — Leigh’s  Body  of  Divinity,  Book  IY. 
Chap.  1. 

44  The  whole  history  of  the  first  man  evinces,  that  he  was  not  looked  upon 
as  an  individual  person,  but  that  the  whole  human  nature  was  considered 
in  him.  For  it  was  not  said  to  our  first  parents  only,  Increase  and  multiply ; 
bv  virtue  of  which  words  the  propagation  of  the  human  race  is  still  contin¬ 
ued  ;  nor  is  it  true  of  Adam  only,  It  is  not  good  that  man  should  be  alone;  nor 
does  that  conjugal  law  concern  him  alone,  Therefore  shall  a  man  leave  his 
father  and  his  mother ,  and  these  two  shall  be  one  flesh  ;  which  Christ  still  urges 
(Mt.  19:5);  nor  did  the  penalty,  which  God  threatened  to  Adam  in  case  of 
sin,  affect  him  alone,  Dying  thou  shalt  die;  but  death  passed  upon  all  men.  as 
the  Apostle  observes.  All  which  loudly  proclaim,  that  Adam  was  here 
considered  as  the  head  of  mankind.” —  Witsius  on  the  Covenants,  II.  14. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


259 


fore  other  men  sinned  ;  or  that  it  did  not  so  happen  that 
many  men  began  to  sin  just  together  at  the  same  mo¬ 
ment.”  “  The  latter  part  of  the  verse”  (he  goes  on  to  say) 
‘  and  death  by  sin,  and  so  death  passed  upon  all  men, 
for  that  all  hhye  sinned,’  shows  that  in  the  eye  of  the 
Judge  of  the  world,  in  Adam’s  first  sin  all  sinned  ;  not 
only  in  some  sort ,  but  all  sinned  so  as  to  be  exposed  to 
that  death  and  final  destruction,  which  is  the  proper  wages 
of  sin”*  In  another  chapter  of  this  treatise  he  combats  the 
objection  made  against  the  imputation  of  Adam’s  sin  to 
his  posterity  “  that  such  imputation  is  unjust  and  un¬ 
reasonable,  inasmuch  as  Adam  and  his  posterity  are  not 
one  and  the  same,”  (one  of  the  principal  objections  to 
the  doctrine,  and  a  fatal  one,  if  it  can  maintained).  He 
combats  it  by  denying  the  truth  of  the  affirmation,  that 
Adam  and  his  posterity  are  not  one  and  the  same,  and 
by  establishing  the  contrary  position  by  as  profound  and 
truthful  a  course  of  speculation  as  ever  emanated  from  his 
mind.  “  I  think,”  (he  says)  “  it  would  go  far  towards 
directing  us  to  the  more  clear  and  distinct  conceiving  and 
right  stating  of  this  affair,  (of  original  sin,)  were  we 
steadily  to  bear  this  in  mind :  that  God,  in  each  step  of 
his  proceeding  with  Adam,  in  relation  to  the  covenant 
or  constitution  established  with  him,  looked  on  his  pos¬ 
terity  as  being  one  with  him.  *  *  *  Therefore,  I  am 

humbly  of  opinion,  that  if  any  have  supposed  the  chil¬ 
dren  of  Adam  to  come  into  the  world  with  a  double 
guilt :  one,  the  guilt  of  Adam’s  sin ;  another,  the  guilt 
arising  from  their  having  a  corrupt  heart,  they  have  not 
so  well  conceived  of  the  matter.  The  guilt  a  man  has  on 
his  soul  at  his  first  existence  is  one  and  simple,  viz.,  the 
guilt  of  the  original  apostasy,  the  guilt  of  the  sin  by 


*  The  italics  are  Edwards’s,  and  the  italics  of  Edwards 

nidcant. 


arc  always  sig 


260 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


which  the  species  first  rebelled  from  God.  *  *  The 

first  existing  of  a  corrupt  disposition  in  the  hearts  of 
Adam’s  posterity  is  not  to  be  looked  upon  as  sin  belong¬ 
ing  to  them,  distinct  from  their  participation  of  Adam’s 
first  sin:  it  is,  as  it  were,  the  extended  pollution  of  that  sin, 
through  the  whole  tree,  by  virtue  of  the  constituted  union 
of  the  branches  with  the  root;  or  the  inherence  of  the  sin 
of  that  head  of  the  species  in  the  members,  in  the  con¬ 
sent  and  concurrence  of  the  hearts  of  the  members, 
with  the  head  in  that  first  act.”  Edwards  also  quotes 
with  approbation  the  following  from  Stapler :  “  It  is  ob¬ 
jected  against  the  imputation  of  Adam’s  sin,  that  we 
never  committed  the  same  sin  with  Adam,  neither  in 
number  nor  in  kind.  I  answer,  we  should  distinguish 
here  between  the  physical  act  itself,  which  Adam  com¬ 
mitted,  and  the  morality  of  the  action  and  consent  to  it. 
If  we  have  respect  only  to  the  external  act,  to  be  sure  it 
must  be  confessed  that  Adam’s  posterity  did  not  put 
forth  their  hands  to  the  forbidden  fruit :  in  which  sense 
that  act  of  transgression,  and  that  fall  of  Adam,  cannot 
be  physically  one  with  the  sin  of  his  posterity.  But  if 
we  consider  the  morality  of  the  action,  \i.  e.  the  volun¬ 
tary  ground  of  it,]  and  what  consent  there  is  to  it,  it  is 
altogether  to  be  maintained  that  his  posterity  committed 
the  same  sin  both  in  number  and  in  kind,  inasmuch  as 
they  are  to  be  looked  upon  as  consenting  to  it :  for  where 
there  is  a  consent  to  a  sin,  there  the  same  sin  is  commit¬ 
ted.  Seeing,  therefore,  that  Adam,  with  all  his  poster¬ 
ity,  constitute  but  one  moral  person,  and  are  united  in 
the  same  covenant,  and  are  transgressors  of  the  same 
law,  they  are  also  to  be  looked  upon  as  having,  in  a 
moral  estimation,  committed  the  same  transgression  of 
the  law  both  in  manner  and  in  kind.”  Edwards  finally 
remarks,  that  all  the  objections  that  can  be  brought 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


261 


against  the  doctrine  of  the  imputation  of  Adam’s  sin  to 
his  posterity,  are  summed  up  in  this  assumption  and 
assertion  —  viz.,  that  Adam  and  his  posterity  are  not 
originally  one ,  but  are  from  first  to  last  entirely  distinct 
and  individual  agents  :  this  assumption  he  earnestly  de¬ 
nies,  and  enters  into  a  long  and  subtle  investigation,  well 
worthy  any  man’s  study,  of  what  is  meant  by  personal 
identity,  to  show  that  there  is  no  absurdity  or  contradic¬ 
tion  in  the  hypothesis,  that,  by  the  divine  establishment 
and  constitution,  all  of  Adam’s  posterity  were,  in  some 
real  and  important  sense,  in  him  and  one  with  him* 

Any  one  who  will  take  the  pains  to  study  the  history 
of  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  and  to  trace  its  develop¬ 
ment,  will  find  that  the  more  profound  minds  in  the  Chris¬ 
tian  church  have  ever  sought  to  relieve  the  subject  of 
those  difficulties  which  encompass  it,  by  this  doctrine  of 
the  oneness  of  Adam  with  his  posterity.  A  mystery 
overhangs,  and,  perhaps,  ever  must  overhang  the  nature 
and  possibility  of  this  oneness  ;  but  this  mystery  being 
once  waived,  or  put  up  with  by  the  mind,  the  principal 
difficulties  that  beset  the  doctrine  of  a  sinful  nature  orig¬ 
inated  antecedently  to  all  consciousness,  and  beginning 
to  manifest  itself  in  the  case  of  every  individual  with  the 
first  dawn  of  self-consciousness,  disappear.  Granting 
the  possibility  and  the  fact  of  the  individual’s  fall  in 
Adam  and  with  Adam,  then  it  is  easy  to  see  how  this 
fall  can  be  charged  as  guilt  upon  the  individual,  and  the 
sinful  nature  be  truly  and  really  a  self-determined  and 
responsible  nature,  deserving  and  incurring  the  wrath  of 
God.  Original  sin,  by  this  hypothesis,  is  seen  to  be  the 
work  of  the  creature,  and  not  the  Creator,  the  chief  pecu¬ 
liarity  in  this  case  being,  that  it  was  originated  by  the 


*  Edwards  on  Original  Sin.  Part  IY.  Chap.  3. 


262 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


whole  race,  and  for  the  whole  race,  not  as  it  exists  in  the 
historical  series  of  its  individual  members ,  but  as  it  existed 
a  seminal  and  common  nature  in  the  first  man. 

With  regard  to  the  possibility  of  such  a  co-existence 
of  Adam  and  his  posterity,  little  can  be  said,  although 
the  more  the  mind  reflects  upon  the  subject,  the  less  sur¬ 
prising  does  it  seem.  One  thing  is  certain,  that  the 
mysteriousness  of  the  subject  has  not  deterred  the  human 
mind  from  receiving  the  doctrine.  We  see  the  clearest 
and  deepest  minds  of  the  church,  men  of  unquestioned 
intellect aal  power,  and  of  profound  insight  into  their  own 
hearts,  drawn,  as  by  a  spell,  to  this  hypothesis,  as  the 
best  theory  by  which  to  free  the  doctrine  of  original  sin 
from  its  principal  difficulties  :  and  this  fact  of  itself  con¬ 
stitutes  a  strong  ground  for  the  belief  that  the  truth  lies 
in  this  direction. 

1.  We  would  merely  call  attention,  however,  to  the 
fact,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  oneness  and  co-existence  of 
the  race  in  the  first  man,  by  no  means  contradicts  what 
we  know  from  physiology,  but  rather  finds  a  corrobora¬ 
tion  from  it.  When  the  first  individuals  of  a  new  species 
are  created  out  of  nothing  by  the  Creator  of  all  things, 
the  species ,  as  well  as  these  individuals,  is  created.  The 
remaining  individuals  of  the  species  —  the  posterity  of 
the  first  pair  —  do  not  come  into  existence  each  by  a 
new  fiat,  like  that  which  called  the  first  into  being,  but 
by  a  propagation.  The  primordial  elements  of  all  the 
individuals  of  the  series  are  created,  when  the  first  pair 
of  the  species  is  created,  and  then  are  developed  into  a 
series  of  individuals.  Any  catastrophe,  therefore,  any 
radical  change  that  befalls  these  first  individuals,  affects 
the  whole  species,  and  in  precisely  the  same  way.  If 
that  science,  whose  business  it  is  to  investigate  the  nature 
and  mutual  relations  of  the  species  and  the  individual. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


263 


and  to  give  an  account  of  the  development  of  the  crea¬ 
tion  of  God,  teaches  anything,  it  teaches  this. 

2.  The  other  principal  objection — -that  the  individual 
was  never  conscious  of  this  fall  in  Adam  —  has  been 
removed  by  what  has  been  advanced  in  regard  to  the 
possibility  of  a  voluntary  action  that  is  deeper  than  con¬ 
sciousness.  If  there  can  be,  and  actually  is,  action  of 
the  human  Will,  unaccompanied  by  self-consciousness, 
then  it  is  not  absurd  or  self-contradictory  to  affirm  that 
the  Will  of  the  whole  species,  generically  including  the 
Will  of  every  individual  within  it,  fell  in  the  first  man. 

The  doctrine  of  original  sin,  then,  as  stated  in  the 
Westminster  Catechism  taken  in  its  strict  and  literal 
acceptation,  we  deem  to  be  in  accordance  with  the 
teaching  of  Scripture  on  this  subject.  Only  put  up  with 
the  inexplicability  of  the  oneness,  and  co-existence,  of 
Adam  and  his  posterity — only  grant  this  assumption, 
which  all  the  analogies  in  the  world  of  physical  nature, 
and  all  the  investigations  of  physiology,  yet  seem  to  cor¬ 
roborate  —  and  we  can  hold  to  a  sinful  nature,  and  a 
sinful  nature  that  is  guilt.  We  know  of  no  other  theory 
that  does  not  in  the  end,  either  reduce  sin  to  a  minimum, 
by  recognizing  no  sin  but  that  of  single  volitions,  or  else, 
while  asserting  a  sinful  nature,  does  it  at  the  expense  of 
human  freedom  and  responsibility.  And  surely  a  theory 
which  removes  the  real  and  honest  difficulties  that  cling 
to  one  of  the  most  vexed  questions  in  theology,  ought  not 
to  be  rejected  merely  on  the  ground  of  a  mystery  that 
attaches  to  one  of  its  parts.  Manifest  absurdity  and  self- 
contradiction  would  be  the  only  valid  grounds  for  reject¬ 
ing  it ;  and  these,  we  think,  cannot  be  fixed  upon  it. 

In  conclusion,  we  would  say,  that  we  cannot  think, 
with  some,  that  such  speculations  into  a  difficult  doctrine 
like  that  of  original  sin,  are  valueless  —  that  they  merely 


264 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ORIGINAL  SIN. 


baffle  the  mind  and  harden  the  heart.  We  rise  from  this 
investigation  with  a  more  profound  belief  than  ever,  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  innate  and  total  depravity  of  man  — 
of  his  bondage  to  evil,  and  his  guilt  in  this  bondage.  It 
is  only  when  we  turn  away  our  eye  from  the  particular 
exhibitions  of  sin  to  that  evil  nature  that  lies  under  them 
ah,  and  lies  under  them  all  the  while  —  it  is  only  when 
we  turn  away  from  what  we  do  to  what  we  are  — that  we 
become  filled  with  that  deep  sense  of  guilt,  that  profound 
self-abasement,  before  the  infinite  purity  of  God,  and  that 
utter  self-despair,  which  alone  fit  us  to  be  the  subjects 
of  renewing  and  sanctifying  grace.  If  the  church  and 
the  ministry  of  the  present  day  need  any  one  thing  more 
than  another,  it  is  profound  views  of  sin  ;  and  if  the  cur¬ 
rent  theology  of  the  day  is  lacking  in  any  one  thing,  it  is 
in  that  thorough-going,  that  truly  philosophic,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  truly  edifying  theory  of  sin,  which  runs  like  a 
strong  muscular  cord  through  all  the  soundest  theology 
of  the  church. 


THE  ATONEMENT,  A  SATISFACTION  FOR  THE 
ETHICAL  NATURE  OF  BOTH  GOD  AND  MAN.* 


It  is  a  very  important  question  whether,  in  the  recon¬ 
ciliation  of  man  with  God,  the  change  of  feeling  and 
relationship  that  confessedly  occurs  between  the  parties, 
is  solely  upon  the  side  of  man,  or  whether  that  method 
which  proposes  to  bring  about  peace  and  harmony  be¬ 
tween  the  sinner  and  his  Judge,  contains  a  provision 
that  refers  immediately  to  the  being  and  ethical  nature 
of  God.  Is  the  Divine  Essence  absolutely  passive,  and 
entirely  unaffected  by  the  propitiatory  death  of  Christ, 
and  is  all  the  movement  and  affection  that  occurs  con¬ 
fined  to  human  nature ;  or  is  there  in  the  Godhead  itself, 
by  virtue  of  its  essential  nature  and  quality,  something 
that  requires  a  judicial  satisfaction  for  sin,  and  which, 
when  satisfied,  produces  the  specific  sense  of  satisfaction, 
or,  to  use  a  biblical  term,  of  “  propitiation,”  in  the  Deity 
himself?  In  short, is  the  reconciliation  of  man  with  God 
merely  and  wholly  subjective,  an  occurrence  in  the 
human  soul  but  no  real  event  and  fact  in  the  Divine 
Mind  ?  Is  the  sinner  merely  reconciled  to  God,  God 
remaining  precisely  the  same  towards  him  that  He  is 
irrespective  of  the  work  of  Christ,  and  antecedent  to  his 
appropriation  of  that  work  ;  or  does  God  first,  by  and 


*  Reprinted  from  the  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  Oct.  1859. 


266 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


through  a  judicial  infliction  of  his  own  providing,  and 
his  own  enduring  in  the  person  of  the  Son,  —  Himself 
the  judge,  Himself  the  priest,  Himself  the  sacrifice, — 
conciliate  his  own  holy  justice  towards  the  guilty,  and 
thereby  lay  the  foundation  for  the  consciousness  of  recon¬ 
ciliation  in  the  penitent?* 

The  phraseology  of  scripture  teaches,  beyond  a  doubt, 
that  the  transaction  of  reconciliation  is  not  confined  ex¬ 
clusively  to  human  nature.  We  are  told,  for  example, 
by  the  apostle  John,  that  “  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous  is 
the  propitiation  for  our  sins.”  f  Propitiation  is  the  strong 
word  employed  to  denote  the  real  nature  of  Christ’s 
work  by  that  mild  and  loving  apostle  whose  intuition 
of  Christianity  some  biblical  critics  would  array  against 
that  of  Paul,  and  in  whose  writings  they  profess  to  find 
only  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  life  and  sanctification,  and 
not  that  of  expiation  and  justification.  But  this  term 
certainly  implies  two  parties,  —  an  offending  and  an 


*  That  God,  in  the  work  of  atonement,  is  both  the  first  cause  and  last 
end.  or,  in  other  words,  at  once  the  propitiating  and  the  offended  party,  is 
plainly  taught  in  such  texts  as  2  Cor.  v.  18,  and  Coloss.  i.  20  :  “  God  hath 
reconciled  us  to  Himself,  by  Jesus  Christ.  It  pleased  God  ...  by 
Christ  to  reconcile  all  things  to  Himself,  having  made  peace  through  the 
blood  of  his  cross.”  Augustine  notices  this  fact  in  the  following  manner: 
“  How  hast  Thou  loved  us,  for  whom  He  that  thought  it  no  robbery  to  be 
equal  with  Thee,  was  made  subject  even  to  the  death  of  the  cross,  He  alone, 
free  among  the  dead,  having  power  to  lay  down  His  life,  and  power  to  take 
it  again  ;  for  us,  to  Thee,  both  victor  and  victim,  and  therefore  victor  because 
the  victim  ;  for  us,  to  Thee,  both  priest  and  sacrifice,  and  therefore  priest 
because  the  sacrifice.”  —  Confessions,  X.  xliii.  69.  The  same  thought  is 
expressed  in  a  very  dense  and  comprehensive  form  by  John  Wessel,  one  of 
the  forerunners  of  the  Reformation  :  Ipse  deus,  ipse  sacerdos,  ipse  hostia, 
pro  se,  de  se.  sibi  satisfecit.”  —  He  causis  incarnationis,  c.  17.  And  Pascal 
makes  a  similar  remark  in  his  fragmentary  reflections  :  “  Agnus  occisus 
est  ab  origine  mundi.  The  judge  himself  is  the  sacrifice.”  —  Thoughts, 
London  Ed.  by  Pearce,  p.  255. 
t  1  John  ii.  2. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


267 


offended  one.  “A  mediator,”  argues  Paul,  in  his  Epistle 
to  the  Galatians,  “  is  not  a  mediator  of  one  that  is,  in 
order  to  mediation,  there  must  be  two  persons  between 
whom  to  mediate.  In  like  manner,  propitiation  implies 
that  one  being  has  wakened  the  just  displeasure  of 
another  being,. and  that  the  latter  needs  to  be  placated 
by  some  valid  and  satisfactory  method.  Propitiation, 
therefore,  —  an  idea  that  weaves  the  warp  and  weaves 
the  woof  of  the  entire  scriptures,  —  if  it  has  any  solid 
signification,  looks  Godward.*  God,  and  not  man,  is 
the  party  primarily  offended  by  sin.  It  is  his  nature 
which  requires  the  propitiatory  sacrifice,  and  he  him¬ 
self  provides  it.  “  Since,  in  his  crucifixion,”  says  John 
Howe,  “  Christ  was  a  sacrifice,  that  is,  was  placatory  and 
reconciling,  and  since  reconciliations  are  always  mutual, 
of  both  the  contending  parties  to  one  another,  it  must 
have  the  proper  influence  of  a  sacrifice  immediately  upon 
both ,  and  as  well  mollify  men’s  hearts  towards  God,  as 
procure  that  he  should  express  favorable  inclinations 
towards  them.”  f 

Another  very  pointed  scripture  text,  from  which  we 

*  This  is  very  apparent  when  we  analyze  those  words  in  different  lan¬ 
guages  which  bring  to  view  the  relation  of  sinful  man  to  the  Supreme  Being. 
The  primary  meaning  always  implies  that  the  Deity  is  displacent,  and  it  is 
only  the  secondary  signification  that  refers  to  the  creature  The  word  i\dcr- 
KOLicu,  for  example,  in  Homer,  is  always  objective  in  its  signification  when 
applied  to  the  gods.  'IAc icnieoSai  Se6v  primarily  means  to  appease  God,  to 
produce  a  favorable  feeling  or  affection  in  God,  and  then  in  a  secondary 
sense  to  reconcile  oneself  to  him,  to  attain  a  peaceful  feeling  subjectively. 
The  Saxon  hot  (whence  the  modern  boot)  signifies  a  compensation  paid  to 
an  injured  party,  a  redressing,  recompense,  amends,  satisfaction,  offering  ; 
then  a  remedy  or  cure,  effected  by  such  compensation  ;  and  lastly,  a  repent¬ 
ance.  renewing,  restoring ,  wrought  out  by  means  of  boot  or  satisfaction  given. 
In  th  is  way  repentance  is  inseparable  from  atonement ;  and  its  genuineness 
is  evinced  by  the  cordiality  with  which  judicial  satisfaction  is  rendered,  if  it 
can  be,  or  appropriated  as  rendered  by  a  substitute,  in  case  it  cannot  be. 

t  Living  Temple,  Pt.  II.  c.  5.  (Yol.  I.  p.  81.  New  York  Ed.). 

i 


26S 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


cannot  deduce  anyth  ins:  but  the  doctrine  of  a  real  satis- 
faction  of  the  Divine  Nature  by  the  work  of  Christ,  is 
the  declaration  of  Paul,  that  “  if  while  we  were  yet  [im¬ 
penitent]  sinners  Christ  died  for  us,  much  more,  then, 
being  now  justified  by  his  blood  we  shall  be  saved  from 
wrath  through  him.*'*  Whose  wrath  is  this,  from  which, 
the  apostle  teaches,  we  are  saved  by  the  propitiatory 
death  of  Christ  ?  Is  it  the  wrath  of  man,  and  not  the 
wrath  of  God  ?  Most  certainly  it  is  not  from  that  selfish 
and  wicked  passion  in  the  human  heart,  which  we  most 
commonly  associate  with  the  term  anger ,  that  we  are 
delivered  by  the  blood  of  redemption.  But  may  it  not 
be  our  own  moral  indignation  merely ,  and  not  that  of 
our  Creator  and  Judge,  to  which  the  apostle  refers  ? 
May  not  the  appeasing  effect  of  Christ’s  blood  of  expia¬ 
tion  be  confined  to  the  human  conscience  solely,  and 
there  be  no  actual  pacification  of  any  attribute  or  feeling 
in  the  Deity  ?  But  this  is  only  a  part  of  the  truth.  We 
do,  indeed,  need  to  be  saved  from  the  terrible  wrath  and 
remorse  of  our  own  consciences,  as  they  bite  back 
(remordere)  upon  us  after  the  commission  of  sin.  —  and 
of  this  we  shall  speak  in  its  place,  —  but  we  need  pri¬ 
marily  to  be  saved  from  the  judicial  displeasure  of  that 
immaculate  Spirit,  in  whose  character  and  ethical 
feeling  towards  sin  the  human  conscience  itself  has  its 
eternal  ground  and  authority,  and  of  which  it  is  the 
most  sensitive  index  and  measure. 

The  natural  teaching,  then,  of  these  and  similar  pas¬ 
sages  of  scripture  is,  that  the  atoning  sacrifice  of  the 
God-man  renders,  “ propitious ”  towards  the  trans¬ 
gressor,  that  particular  side  of  the  Divine  Nature,  and 
that  one  specific  emotion  of  the  living  God,  which  other- 


*  Romans,  y.  8,  9. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


269 


wise  and  without  it  is  displacent  and  unappeased. 
This  atonement  is  a  satisfaction  for  the  ethical  nature 
of  God  as  well  as  man.  This  propitiation  sustains  an 
immediate  relation  to  an  attribute  and  quality  in  the 
Divine  Essence,  and  exerts  a  specific  influence  upon  it. 
By  it  God’s  holy  justice  and  moral  anger  against  sin 
are  conciliated  to  guilty  man,  that  man’s  remorseful 
conscience  may,  as  a  consequence  of  this  pacification 
in  the  Divine  Essence,  experience  the  peace  that  passeth 
ali  understanding.  It  will  therefore  be  the  purpose  of 
this  Essay  to  evince  that  the  piacular  work  of  the  in¬ 
carnate  Deity  sustains  relations  to  both  the  nature  of 
God  and  the  nature  of  man  ;  and  more  particularly  to 
show  that  the  pacification  of  the  human  conscience 
itself  is  possible  only  in  case  there  has  been  an  antece¬ 
dent  propitiation  and  satisfaction  of  that  side  of  the 
Divine  INature  which  is  the  deep  and  eternal  ground  of 
conscience. 

Before  commencing  the  discussion,  we  would  in  the 
very  outset  guard  against  a  misconception,  which 
almost  uniformly  arises  in  a  certain  class  of  minds,  and 
which  is  not  only  incompatible  with  any  just  under¬ 
standing  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement,  but  prevents 
even  a  dispassionate  and  candid  attention  to  it.  When 
it  is  asserted  that  “God  requires  to  be  propitiated,”  and 
that  “  his  wrath  needs  to  be  averted  by  a  judicial  inflic¬ 
tion  upon  the  sinner’s  substitute,”  the  image  imme¬ 
diately  arises  before  such  minds  of  an  enraged  and 
ugly  demon,  whose  wrath  is  wrong ,  and  who  must  be 
pacified  by  some  other  being  than  himself.  Such  minds 
labor  under  a  twofold  error,  of  which  they  ought  to  be 
disabused.  Their  first  fatal  misconception  is,  that  the 
Di  vine  anger  is  selfish  and  vindictive,  instead  of  just 
and  vindicative  of  law.  And  their  second  consists  in 


270 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


their  assumption  that  the  placation  issues  from  some 
other  source  than  the  offended  One  himself.  Assuming, 
as  they  do,  that  anger  in  God  is  illegitimate,  the  attribu¬ 
tion  of  this  emotion  to  him,  of  course  undeifies  him. 
And  assuming,  still  further,  that  wrath  against  the  sin¬ 
ner’s  sin  cannot  exist  at  the  same  instant  with  com¬ 
passion  towards  the  sinner’s  soul,  they  find  no  pity  in 
the  Deity  as  thus  defined.  His  sole  emotion  must  be 
that  of  wrath,  because,  as  they  imagine,  He  can  have 
but  one  feeling  at  a  time,  and  therefore  the  creature  who 
has  incurred  God’s  displeasure  must  look  elsewhere 
than  to  God  for  the  source  of  hope  and  peace. 

Now  this  whole  view  overlooks  the  complex  nature, 
the  infinite  plenitude,  of  the  Godhead.  For  at  the  very 
instant  when  the  immaculate  holiness  of  God  is  burn¬ 
ing  with  intensity,  and  reacting  by  an  organic  recoil 
against  sin,*  the  infinite  pity  of  God  is  yearning  with  a 
fathomless  desire  to  save  the  transgressor  from  the  effects 
of  this  very  displeasure.  The  emotion  of  anger  against 
sin  is  constitutional  to  the  Deity,  and  is  irrepressible  at 
the  sight  of  sin.  But  this  is  entirely  compatible  with 
the  existence  and  exercise  of  another  and  opposite  feel¬ 
ing,  at  the  very  same  moment,  in  reference,  not  indeed 
to  the  sin,  but  to  the  soul  of  the  sinner.f  Mercy  and 


*  The  inspired  words  that  express  the  emotion  of  displacency  m  the 
Divine  Being  are  startling  from  their  energy  and  vividness.  The  primary 
sensuous  meaning,  or  the  visual  image  called  up  by  them,  illustrates  this. 
The  verb  cyr,  employed  in  Ps.  vii.  11,  signifies  to  foam  at  the  mouth;  the 
verb  means  to  cut  up,  or  break  up,  into  pieces  ;  the  verb  signifies  to 
breathe  hard  through  the  distended  nostrils ;  etc.  Does  not  the  application  of 
such  words  as  these  to  the  emotions  of  the  Deity  imply  an  inspiration  that 
includes  phraseology  as  well  as  ideas  ?  Would  an  uninspired  writer  ven¬ 
ture  upon  such  diction  in  such  a  connection  ? 

t  The  two  emotions  of  which  we  are  speaking,  are  clearly  discriminated 
from  each  other  bv  the  fact  that  one  of  them  is  constitutional,  and  the  other 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


271 


truth  meet  together,  righteousness  and  peace  kiss  each 
other,  in  the  Divine  Essence  ;  and  it  is  a  mutilated  and 
meagre  conception  of  the  Godhead  that  can  grasp  but 
one  of  these  opposites  at  once.  Even  within  the  nar¬ 
row  and  imperfect  sphere  of  human  life  there  may  be, 
and  were  man  holier,  there  often  would  be,  the  most 
holy  and  unselfish  indignation  at  wrong  doing,  united 
with  the  utmost  readiness  to  suffer  and  die  if  need  be 
for  the  eternal  welfare  of  the  wrong  doer. 

Such  being  the  actual  relation  of  indignation  to  com- 

voluntary.  The  Divine  wrath  [opyy  Qeov,  Rom.  i.  18),  issues  from  the 
necessary  antagonism  between  tiie  pure  essence  of  the  Godhead,  and  moral 
evil.  It  is,  therefore,  natural,  organic,  necessary,  and  eternal.  The  logical 
idea  of  the  Holy  implies  it.  But  the  love  of  benevolence,  or  the  Divine 
compassion,  issues  from  the  voluntary  disposition  of  God,  —  from  his  heart 
and  affections.  It  is  good-will.  It  is,  consequently,  easy  to  see  that  the 
existence  of  the  constitutional  emotion  is  perfectly  compatible  with  that  of 
the  voluntary,  in  one  and  the  same  being,  and  at  one  and  the  same  moment ; 
and,  in  God,  from  all  eternity,  since  he  is  unchangeable.  Says  Augustine 
(Tractatus  in  Joannem,  110) :  “  It  is  written,  ‘God  commendeth  his  love 
towards  us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us  ’  (Rom.  v. 
8).  He  loved  us,  therefore,  even  when,  in  the  exercise  of  enmity  against 
him,  we  were  working  iniquity.  And  yet  it  is  said  with  perfect  truth :  ‘  Thou 
hatest,  0  Lord,  all  workers  of  iniquity’  (Rs.  v.  5).  Wherefore,  in  a  won¬ 
derful  and  divine  manner,  he  loth  hated  and  loved  us  at  the  same  time,  lie 
hated  us,  as  being  different  from  what  he  had  made  us  ;  but  as  our  iniquity 
had  not  entirely  destroyed  his  work  in  us.  he  could  at  the  same  time,  in 
every  one  of  us,  hate  what  we  had  done  and  love  what  he  had  created  In 
every  instance  it  is  truly  said  of  God  :  ‘  Thou  hatest  nothing  which  thou 
hast  made  ;  for  never  wouldest  thou  have  made  anything,  if  thou  hadst 
hated  it’  (Wisdom  xi.  24).”  Calvin,  after  quoting  the  above  from  Augus¬ 
tine,  remarks  (Institutes  II.  xvi.  3)  :  “  God,  who  is  the  perfection  of  right¬ 
eousness,  cannot  love  iniquity,  which  he  beholds  in  us  all.  We  all,  there¬ 
fore,  have  in  ns  that  which  deserves  God’s  hatred.  Wherefore,  in  respect 
to  our  corrupt  nature,  and  the  succeeding  depravity  of  our  lives,  we  are  all 
really  offensive  to  God,  guilty  in  his  sight,  and  born  to  the  damnation  of  hell. 
But  because  the  Lord  will  not  lose  in  us  that  which  is  his  own,  he  yet  dis¬ 
covers  something  that  his  goodness  may  love.  For  notwithstanding  we  are 
sinners  through  our  own  fault,  yet  we  are  still  his  creatures  ;  notwithstand¬ 
ing  we  have  brought  death  upon  ourselves,  yet  he  had  created  us  for  life.” 


272 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


passion  in  the  Divine  Essence,  it  is  plain  that  it  is  God 
himself  that  propitiates  himself  to  the  transgressor.  In 
the  incarnate  person  of  the  Son,  God  voluntarily  en¬ 
dures  the  weight  of  his  own  judicial  displeasure,  in 
order  that  the  real  criminal  may  be  spared.  The  Divine 
compassion  itself  bears  the  inflictions  of  the  Divine  in¬ 
dignation,  in  the  place  of  the  transgressor.*  That  ethi¬ 
cal  emotion  in  the  being  of  God,  which  from  the  nature 
and  necessity  of  the  case  is  incensed  against  sin,  God 
himself  placates  by  a  personal  self-sacrifice  that  inures 
to  the  benefit  of  the  creature,  The  “  propitiation  ” 
spoken  of  by  the  apostle  John  is,  therefore,  no  oblation 
ab  extra ,  no  device  of  a  third  party,  or  even  of  man 
himself,  to  render  God  placable  towards  man.  It  is 
wholly  ab  infra,  a  se//'*oblation  upon  the  part  of  Deity 
itself,  by  which  to  satisfy  those  immanent  and  eternal 
imperatives  of  the  Divine  Nature  which  without  it  must 
find  their  satisfaction  in  the  punishment  of  the  trans¬ 
gressor,  or  else  be  outraged.  Neither  does  the  purpose 
to  employ  this  method  of  salvation,  to  provide  this  sat¬ 
isfaction  of  ethical  and  judicial  claims,  originate  outside 
of  the  Divine  Nature.  God  is  inherently  inclined  to 
forgive;  and  there  is  no  proof  of  this  so  strong  as  the 
fact,  that  he  does  not  shrink  from  this  amazing  self- 
sacrifice  which  forgiveness  necessitates.  The  desire  to 
save  his  transgressing  and  guilty  creature  wells  up  and 
overflows  from  the  depths  of  his  own  compassionate 

*  In  all  these  statements  we  would  be  understood  as  making  them  in 
harmony  with,  and  subject  to,  all  the  limitations  of  the  catholic  doctrine 
of  the  two  natures  in  the  one  Person  of  Christ.  The  Divine  Nature,  in 
itself,  is  impassible ;  but  we  have  scriptural  warrant  in  Acts  xx.  28,  for  say¬ 
ing  that  God  incarnate,  or  the  God-Man,  is  passible,  and  suffers  and  dies. 
Hence,  while  there  can  be  no  transfer  of  predicates  from  one  nature  to  the 
other,  the  predicates  of  both  natures  alike  belong  to  the  Person ,  and  that 
Person  is  God  as  well  as  man. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


273 


heart,  and  needs  no  soliciting  or  prompting  from  with¬ 
out.  Side  by  side  in  the  Godhead,  then,  there  dwell 
the  impulse  to  punish  and  the  desire  to  pardon  ;  but  the 
desire  to  pardon  is  realized  in  act,  by  carrying  out  the 
impulse  to  punish,  not  indeed  upon  the  person  of  the 
criminal,  but  upon  that  of  his  substitute.  And  the  sub¬ 
stitute  is  the  Punisher  Himself!  Side  by  side  in  the 
Godhead  there  reside  the  emotion  of  moral  wrath  and 
the  feeling  of  pity  ;  but  the  feeling  of  pity  is  manifested, 
not  by  denying,  but  by  asserting,  the  entire  legitimacy 
of  the  emotion  of  moral  wrath,  and  “propitiating”  its 
holy  intensity  by  a  sufficient  oblation.  And  that  obla¬ 
tion  is  incarnate  Deity  Itself! 

Viewed  from  this  central  point,  and  under  this  focal 
light,  how  impossible  it  is  not  to  recognize  both  love  and 
wrath  in  the  Godhead,*  and  how  impossible  it  is  to 
conceive  of  a  schism  in  the  Divine  Eeing,  and  separate 
his  justice  from  his  mercy.  It  is  a  real  “propitiation” 
of  the  Divine  anger  against  sin  that  is  effected,  but  it 
is  a  propitiation  that  is  effected  by  the  Deity  himself, 
out  of  his  own  self-sacrificing  and  principled  com¬ 
passion. 

Turning  now  to  the  discussion  of  the  theme  pro¬ 
posed,  the  first  step  requires  us  to  consider  the  relation 
which  the  ethical  nature  of  man  sustains  to  the  ethical 
nature  of  God.  For  if  both  alike  are  to  be  satisfied  by 
one  and  the  same  atoning  work  of  one  and  the  same 

*  The  inspired  assertion  that  “  God  is  a  consuming  fire”  (Heb.  xi.  29), 
is  just  as  categorical  and  unqualified  as  the  inspired  assertion  that  “  God  is 
love  ”  (1  John  iv.  8),  or  the  inspired  assertion  that  “  God  is  light”  (1  John 
i.  5).  Hence  it  is  as  inaccurate  to  resolve  all  the  Divine  emotions  into 
love,  as  it  would  be  to  resolve  them  all  into  wrath.  The  truth  is,  that  it  is 
the  Divine  Essence  alone,  and  not  any  one  particular  attribute,  that  can  be 
logically  regarded  as  the  unity  in  which  all  the  characteristic  qualities  of 
the  Deity  centre  and  inhere. 


274 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


Person,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  plain  that  there 
must  be  some  common  kindredness  and  sympathy 
between  them.  What  then  is  the  actual  relation  that 
exists  between  conscience  in  man  and  the  attribute  of 
justice  in  God?  Do  they  give  differing  judgments  with 
respect  to  the  demerit  of  sin,  and  do  they  require  differ¬ 
ent  methods  of  satisfaction  for  it  ?  Is  the  human  con¬ 
science  clamorous  for  an  atonement,  while  the  Divine 
Nature  is  wholly  indifferent  ?  Or,  does  the  judicial  sen¬ 
timent  in  the  Deity  demand  the  infliction  of  penalty 
upon  crime,  while  that  of  man  is  opposed  to  such  an 
infliction  ?  Is  there,  or  is  there  not,  an  entire  and  per¬ 
fect  agreement  between  the  finite  faculty  and  the  infi¬ 
nite  attribute,  upon  these  points,  so  that  in  reference  to 
sin  and  guilt,  what  God  requires,  man’s  moral  nature 
also  insists  upon,  and  what  an  awakened  conscience 
craves,  eternal  Justice  also  demands  ? 

The  moral  reason,  as  containing  for  its  substance  and 
inlay  the  moral  law  of  God,  and  the  conscience  as  the 
faculty  that  testifies  with  respect  to  the  harmony  or  the 
hostility  of  the  will  with  this  law,  —  this  side  of  human 
nature  is  a  part  of  that  “  image  and  likeness  of  God,” 
after  which  man  was  originally  created.  These  faculties 
have  to  do  with  what  is  religious,  ethical,  eternal;  and, 
notwithstanding  the  apostasy  and  corruption  of  man’s 
heart  and  will,  they  still  constitute  a  point  of  connection 
and  communication  between  the  being  of  man  and  the 
being  of  God.  The  moral  reason  and  conscience  are 
the  intellectual  media  whereby,  if  we  may  so  speak, 
man  and  his  Maker  are  put  en  rapport.  When  the 
Eternal  Judge  addresses  the  creature  upon  the  subject 
of  religion,  upon  the  duties  which  he  owes,  and  the 
liabilities  under  which  he  stands,  he  speaks  first  of  all, 
not  to  his  imagination,  or  his  taste,  or  his  hostile  heart, 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


or  his  perverse  will,  but  to  bis  moral  sense  and  senti¬ 
ment.  When  God  begins  the  work  of  conviction,  and 
in  order  to  this  throws  in  an  influence  from  his  own 
holy  and  immaculate  Essence,  He  first  shoots  a  pang 
through  this  part  of  man’s  complex  being.  This,  like 
Darien,  is  the  isthmus  of  volcanic  fire  that  both  divides 
and  joins  the  oceans. 

Here,  then,  if  anywhere  in  the  being  of  man,  we  are 
to  look  for  views  of  the  Deity  that  correspond  to  his 
real  nature  and  character.  And  here,  in  particular,  we 
are  to  find  the  true  index  of  his  judicial  emotions  to¬ 
wards  sin,  and  the  clue  to  what  his  ethical  nature  and 
feeling  demands  in  order  to  its  remission.  We  must 
not  ask  the  sinful  heart,  or  the  taste,  or  the  mere  under¬ 
standing,  what  God  thinks  of  sin,  and  what  is  his  feel¬ 
ing  respecting  it.  Upon  these  points  we  must  take 
counsel  of  the  conscience.  For  the  God  of  the  selfish 
heart  is  the  deity  of  sentimentalism  ;  the  God  of  the 
imagination  and  the  taste  is  the  beautiful  Grecian 
Apollo  ;  the  God  of  the  understanding  merely  is  the 
cold  and  unemotional  abstraction  of  the  deist  and  the 
pantheist ;  but  the  God  of  the  conscience  is  the  living 
and  holy  God  of  Israel,  —  the  God  of  punishments  and 
atonements.  This  ethical  part  of  man’s  being,  then, 
has  a  closer  affinity  than  any  other  part  with  the  Divine 
Essence,  and  consequently  its  phenomena,  its  pangs 
and  its  pacification,  have  a  more  intimate  connection 
than  those  of  any  other  of  his  powers,  with  the  pro¬ 
cesses  of  the  Eternal  Mind.  This  is  the  finite  contact¬ 
ing  point  in  man  that  corresponds  with  the  infinite  sur¬ 
face  in  God.  The  moral  reason  and  conscience,  thus 
having  their  counterpart  and  antithesis  in  the  Deity, 
must,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  indexes  of  him,  and  partic¬ 
ularly  of  what  goes  on  in  his  being  in  relation  to  human 


276 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


sin  and  guilt.  The  calm  condemnation  of  man’s  ethi¬ 
cal  nature,  and  the  unselfish  organic  remorse  of  his  con¬ 
science,  which  are  consequent  upon  his  transgression 
of  lawqare  effluences  from  that  Being  whose  eyes  “  de¬ 
vour  all  iniquity.”  The  righteous  indignation  into 
which  the  judicial  part  of  the  human  soul  is  stirred  by 
sin,  is  the  finite  but  homogeneous  expression  of  that  anger 
against  moral  evil  which  burns  with  an  eternal  intensity 
in  the  purity  of  the  Divine  Essence. 

Hence  it  follows  that  a  careful  examination  of  what 
we  find  in  the  workings  of  this  part  of  the  human  con¬ 
stitution,  instead  of  deterring,  will  compel  us  to  trans¬ 
fer  in  the  same  species  to  God,  what  exists  in  man  in 
only  a  finite  degree.  In  other  words,  the  emotion  of  the  \ 
human  conscience  towards  sin  will  be  found  to  be  the 
same  in  kmd  with  the  emotion  of  God  towards  sin. 
The  analysis  must,  indeed,  be  very  careful.  We  must 
eliminate  from  the  indignation  of  the  moral  sense  all 
elements  of  selfish  passion  that  have  become  mixed 
with  it,  owing  to  that  corruption  of  human  nature  which 
prevents  even  as  serious  a  power  as  conscience  from 
working  with  a  perfectly  normal  action.*  We  must 
clarify  remorse  until  the  residuum  left  is  pure  spiritual 
wrath  against  pure  wickedness!)  We  must  do  our 
utmost,  under  the  illumination  of  divine  truth  and  the 
actuation  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  have  conscience  do  its 

*  Trench  remarks  upon  Eph.  iv.  26,  that  “  St.  Paul  is  not,  as  so  many 
understand  him,  condescending  to  human  infirmity,  and  saying  :  ‘  Your 
anger  shall  not  be  imputed  to  you  as  a  sin,  if  you  put  it  away  before  night¬ 
fall  ;  ’  but  rather,  ‘  Be  ye  angry,  yet  in  this  anger  of  yours  suffer  no  sinful 
element  to  mingle ;  ’  there  is  that  which  may  cleave  even  to  a  righteous 
anger,  the  irapopyLauds,  the  irritation,  the  exasperation,  which  must  be  dis¬ 
missed  at  once ;  that  so,  being  defecated  of  this  impurer  element  which 
mingled  with  it,  that  only  which  ought  to  remain,  may  remain.”  —  Syncr 
nymes  of  N.  T ,  §  37. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


277 


perfect,  unmixed  work  ;  and  then  we  need  not  shrink 
from  asserting,  that  this  righteous  displacency  of  the 
moral  sense,  against  the  voluntary  wickedness,  is  pre¬ 
cisely  the  same  emotion  in  specie  with  the  wrath  of  God.* 
It  will  aid  us  if  at  this  point  we  direct  attention  to 
the  distinction  between  the  human  conscience  and  the 
human  heart;  and  particularly  to  the  difference  between 
emotion  in  conscience  and  emotion  in  the  hearty  The 
feelings  and  passions  of  the  corrupt  human  heart  we 
cannot,  in  any  form,  attribute  to  God.  Envy,  pride, 
malice,  shame,  selfish  love,  and  selfish  hatred,  cannot 
possibly  exist  in  that  pure  and  blessed  Nature.  Hence 
it  is  that  we  are  so  apt  to  shrink  from  those  portions 
of  scripture  which  clothe  the  Deity  with  indignant  and 

*  Hence  the  Divine  injunction  in  Ps.  xcvii.  18  :  “  Ye  that  love  the  Lord, 
hate  evil;’''  and  in  Pom.  xii.  9:  “  Abhor  that  which  is  evil.”  This  pure 
and  spiritual  displacency  towards  moral  evil,  unmixed  with  any  elements 
of  sinful  and  human  passion,  is  one  of  the  last  accomplishments  of  the 
Christian  life.  Hear  the  following  low  and  sad  refrain  from  the  spirit  of 
the  intensely  earnest  and  ethical  Master  of  Rugby,  as  he  muses  under  the 
daik  chestnut-trees,  and  beside  the  limpid  waters,  and  beneath  the  cerulean 
sky  of  Lake  Como:  “It  is  almost  awful  to  look  at  the  overwhelming 
beauty  around  me,  and  then  think  of  moral  evil ;  it  seems  as  if  heaven  and 
hell,  instead  of  being  separated  by  a  great  gulf  from  one  another,  were 
absolutely  on  each  other’s  confines,  and  indeed  not  far  from  every  one  of 
us.  Might  the  sense  of  moral  evil  be  as  strong  in  me  as  my  delight  in  ex¬ 
ternal  beauty  ;  for  in  a  deep  sense  o  f  moral  evil,  more  perhaps  than  in  anything 
else,  abides  a  saving  knowledge  of  God !  It  is  not  so  much  to  admire  moral 
good  ;  that  we  may  do,  and  yet  not  be  ourselves  conformed  to  it ;  but  if  we 
really  do  abhor  that  which  is  evil,  not  the  persons  in  whom  evil  resides,  but 
the  evil  that  dwelleth  in  them,  and  much  more  manifestly  and  certainly  to 
our  own  knowledge,  in  our  own  hearts,  —  this  is  to  have  the  feeling  of  God 
and  of  Christ,  and  to  have  our  spirit  in  sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  God. 
Alas  !  how  easy  to  see  this  and  say  it,  —  how  hard  to  do  it  and  to  feel  it !  ” 
—  Arnold's  Life  and  Correspondence.  Appendix  D. 

t  For  some  further  explanation,  and  illustration,  of  the  important  dis¬ 
tinction  between  the  mental  and  the  moral,  the  constitutional  and  the  volum 
tary,  see  pp.  164 — 167. 


278 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


condemnatory  feelings,  because  this  class  of  emotions 
are  those  in  and  by  which  the  depravity  of  the  human 
heart  is  most  wont  to  display  itself.  But  the  emotion 
of  which  we  are  speaking  is  not  a  passion  of  the  human 
heart.  The  heart  of  man  loves  sin  ;  but  we  are  describ- 


mg 


remorse 


which  is  the  wrath  of  the  conscience. 
against  sin.  We  are  delineating  the  operations  and 
processes  of  a  very  different  part  of  the  human  consti¬ 
tution  from  that  which  is  the  source  and  seat  of  earthlv 

w 

passions  and  sinful  emotions.  We  have  passed  beyond 
the  hot  and  passionate  heart  of  man  to  the  cool  and 
silent  judicial  centre  of  his  being;  and  here  we  find 
feelings  and  processes  of  an  altogether  different  and 
higher  order.  Indignation  in  conscience  is  a  totally  dif¬ 
ferent  emotion  from  indignation  in  the  heart.  A  man's 
moral  displeasure  at  his  own  sin  is  an  entirely  different 
mental  exercise  from  his  selfish  displeasure  towards  his 
neighbor.  The  former  is  an  ethical  and  impartial  emoA 
tion,  totally  independent  of  the  will  and  affections,  and 
called  out  involuntarily  from  the  conscience  bydhe  mere  J 
sheer  contact  between  it  and  the  heart’s  iniquity.  Hence 
a  man  never  condemns  himself  for  the  existence  of  such 
a  species  of  displeasure  within  his  breast.  He  may  be 
angry  in  this  style  and  sin  not.*  The  sun  may  go  down 
upon  this  kind  of  wrath.  And  yet  it  is  not  a  virtue  for 
which  he  can  take  credit  to  himself;  for  it  is  no  product 
of  his.  It  is  not  an  emotion  of  his  heart  or  his  will, 
but  is  simply  an  involuntary  and  irrepressible  efflux 
from  his  rational  nature.  He  may  only  give  glory  to 
his  Creator  for  it,  as  the  only  relic  left  him,  in  his  total 


*  “I  farther  read  :  ‘  Be  anqry  and  sin  not.’  And  how  was  I  moved.  0 
my  God,  who  had  now  learned  to  be  angry  at  myself,  for  things  past,  that 
I  might  not  sin  in  time  to  come  !  Yea  to  be  justly  angry.”  — Augustine's 
Confessions,  IX.  iv.  10. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


279 


alienation  of  heart  and  will  from  God,  of  his  primitive 
and  constitutional  kindredness  with  the  First  Perfect 
and  the  First  Fair. 

Again,  this  judicial  emotion,  this  conscientious  wrath 
of  which  we  are  speaking,  differs  from  the  selfish  and 
partial  emotions  of  the  human  heart,  in  that  it  is  not 
intrinsically  an  unhappy  feeling.  It  does  not,  like  the 
latter,  of  necessity  render  the  being  in  whom  it  exists 
miserable.  Envy,  hatred,  malice,  shame,  pride,  are  each 
and  all  of  them  unhappy  exercises  in  themselves,  as 
well  as  in  their  consequences.  They  cannot  exist  in 
any  being  without  mental  suffering.  But  it  is  not 
so  with  the  moral  displeasure  of  the  moral  sense. 
Whether  this  just  and  legitimate  emotion  be  a  tor¬ 
ment  or  not,  depends  altogether  upon  the  state  of 
the  heart  and  will,  upon  the  moral  character.  It  is 
indeed  true  that  it  causes  unhappiness  in  a  sinful  being, 
because  in  this  instance  the  emotions  of  the  heart 
are  in  antagonism  with  the  emotion  of  conscience; 
because  the  executive  faculty  is  not  in  harmony 
with  the  judicial  faculty.  But  where  there  is  no  per¬ 
sonal  sin,  both  the  wrath  of  conscience  and  the  wrath 
of  God  are  as  innocuous  as  fire  upon  asbestos.  Hence 
this  very  same  emotion  of  moral  indignation  and  abhor¬ 
rence  exists  in  an  intense  degree  in  the  angels  and  the 
seraphim,  but  is  productive  of  no  disquietude  in  them, 
because  there  is  nothing  evil  in  their  own  character 
upon  which  it  can  wreak  its  force.  There  is  a  perfect 
harmony  within  them,  between  the  emotions  of  the 
heart  and  the  judicial  emotion,  between  the  character 
and  the  conscience.  And,  in  like  manner,  this  same 
feeling  of  ethical  displeasure  exists  in  an  infinite  degree 
in  the  being  of  God,  without  disturbing,  in  the  least, 
the  ineffable  peace  and  blessedness  of  that  pure  nature 


280 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


which  is  the  paradise  and  elysium  of  all  who  are  con¬ 
formed  to  it.  For  this  judicial  sentiment  is  a  legitimate 
one,  and  nothing  that  is  legitimate  can  be  intrinsically 
miserable.  And  therefore  it  is  that  the  saints  and  the 
seraphim,  as  they  look  down  from  the  crystal  battle¬ 
ments  with  holy  abhorrence  and  indignation  upon  the 
sorceries  and  murders  and  uncleanness  of  the  fallen 
Babylon,  are  not  distressed  by  their  emotion,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  rejoice  with  a  holy  joy  at  the  final  triumph  of 
justice  in  the  universe  of  God,  and  say,  Alleluia,  as  the 
smoke  of  that  just  torment  rises  up  for  ever  and  ever.* 
And  therefore  it  is  that  God  himself  carries  eternallv,  in 
his  own  blessed  nature,  a  righteous  indignation  against 
moral  evil,  that  is  no  source  of  disquietude  to  him, 
because  there  is  no  moral  evil  in  him.  nor  to  the  aimels 

*  o 

and  saints  and  seraphim,  because  there  is  none  in  them; 
but  only  to  those  rebellious  and  wicked  spirits  into 
whom  it  does  fall  like  lightning  from  the  sky. 

For  if  the  emotion  of  moral  indignation  were  intrin¬ 
sically  one  of  unhappiness,  then  the  existence  of  evil 
would  be  the  destruction  of  the  Divine  blessedness  ; 
because  God  “cannot  look  upon  evil  with  allowance,’'! 


*  “And  after  these  things,  I  heard  a  great  voice  of  much  people  in 
heaven,  saying,  Alleluia  :  Salvation,  and  glory,  and  honor,  and  power  unto 
the  Lord  our  God  :  for  true  and  righteous  are  his  judgments,  for  he  hath 
judged  the  great  whore  which  did  corrupt  the  earth  with  her  fornication, 
and  hath  avenged  the  blood  of  his  servants  at  her  hand.  And  again  they 
said,  Alleluia  :  and  her  smoke  rose  up  forever  and  ever.  And  the  four  and 
twenty  elders,  and  the  four  beasts  fell  down,  and  worshipped  God  that  sat 
on  the  throne,  saying,  Amen,  Alleluia.”  —  Rev.  xix.  1 — 1. 

t  “  Tbou  art  not  a  God  that  hath  pleasiu'e  in  wickedness.  Thou  hatest 
all  workers  of  iniquity”  (Ps.  v.  5,  6).  “  God  is  angry  with  the  wicked 

every  day”  (Ps.  vii.  11).  “  Who  may  stand  in  thy  sight  when  once  thou 

art  angry”  (Ps.  lxxvi.  7).  “Who  knoweth  the  power  of  thine  anger? 
Even  according  to  thy  fear  so  is  thy  wrath”  (Ps.  xc.  11).  “He  that 
believeth  not  the  Son,  shall  not  see  life  ;  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on 
him ”  (John  iii.  36). 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


2S1 


and  yet  he  is  constantly  looking  upon  it.  But  it  is  not 
so.  On  the  contrary,  the  Deity  is  blessed  in  his  dis- 
placency  at  that  which  is  vile  and  hateful.  For  pleasure 
is  the  coincidence  between  a  feeling  and  its  correlated 
object.  It  implies  Intrinsic  congruity  and  fitness.  It 
would  therefore  bet  unhappiness  in  any  being  to  hate 
what  is  lovely,  or  to  love  what  is  hateful  ;  to  be  pleased 
with  what  is  wrong,  and  displeased  with  what  is  right ; 
because  the  proper  coincidence  between  the  emotion 
and  the  object  would  not  obtain.  But  when  God,  or 
any  being,  hates  what  is  hateful,  and  is  angry  at  that 
which  merits  wrath,  the  true  nature  and  fitness  of  things 
is  observed,  and  that  inward  harmony  which  is  the  sub¬ 
stance  of  mental  happiness  is  maintained.  Anger  and 
hatred  are  almost  indissolubly  connected  in  our  minds 
with  mental  wretchedness,  because  we  behold  their  ex¬ 
ercise  only  in  an  abnormal  and  sinful  sphere.  In  an 
apostate  world,  as  such,  there  is  no  proper  and  fitting 
coincidence  between  emotions  and  their  objects.  A 
sinner  hates  holiness,  which  he  ought  to  love  ;  and  loves 
sin,  which  he  ought  to  hate.  The  anger  of  his  heart  is 
not  legitimate,  but  passionate  and  selfish.  The  love  of 
his  heart  is  illicit ;  and  therefore,  as  it  is  styled  in  the 
scripture,  is  mere  lust  or  evil  concupiscence  (eirfeviiCa), 
In  a  sinful  world,  as  such,  all  the  true  relations  and  cor¬ 
relations  are  reversed.  Love  and  hatred  are  expended 
upon  exactly  the  wrong  objects.  But  when  these  emo¬ 
tions  are  contemplated  within  the  sphere  of  the  Holy 
and  the  Eternal ;  when  they  are  beheld  in  God,  exer¬ 
cised  only  upon  their  appropriate  and  deserving  objects; 
when  the  wrath  falls  only  upon  the  sin  and  uncleanness 
of  hell,  and  burns  up  nothing  but  filth  in  its  pure  celestial 
flame;  the  emotion  is  not  merely  legitimate,  but  beau¬ 
tiful  with  an  august  beauty,  and  is  no  source  of  pain 


2S2 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


either  to  the  Divine  Mind  or  to  any  minds  in  sympathy 
with  it.  It  is  only  upon  this  principle  that  we  can 
explain  the  blessedness  of  the  Deity,  in  connection  with 
his  omniscience  and  omnipresence.  We  know  that  sin 
and  the  punishment  of  sin  are  ever  before  him.  The 
smoke  of  torment  is  perpetually  rolling  up  in  the  pres¬ 
ence  of  the  Omnipresent.  And  yet  he  is  supremely 
blessed.  Bat  he  can  be  so  only  because  there  is  a  just 
and  proper  correlationship  between  his  wrath  and  the 
object  upon  which  it  falls  ;  only  because  he  condemns 
that  which  is  intrinsically  damnable.*  The  least  dis¬ 
turbance  of  this  coincidence,  the  slightest  love  for  the 
hateful,  or  hatred  for  the  .lovely,  would  indeed  render 
God  a  wretched  being.  But  the  perfect  harmony  of  it 
makes  him  “  God  over  all”  hell  as  well  as  heaven, 
“blessed  forever/’ f  Were  this  ethical  feeling  once  to 
be  outraged  by  the  final  triumph  of  iniquity  over  right¬ 
eousness  ;  were  the  smoke  of  torment  to  ascend  eter- 


*  It  is  at  this  point  that  the  metaphysical  necessity  of  endless  punish¬ 
ment  appears.  For  if  sin  be  intrinsically  damnable,  it  is  intrinsically  pun¬ 
ishable.  If  then  the  question  be  asked  :  How  long  is  it  intrinsically  dam¬ 
nable  and  punishable  ?  there  is  but  one  answer.  There  is,  in  fact,  no 
logical  mean  between  no  punishment  at  all  of  sin  as  an  intrinsic  evil,  and 
an  absolute,  that  is,  an  endless  punishment  of  it. 

t  It  is  a  standing  objection  of  infidelity  to  the  Biblical  idea  and  repre¬ 
sentation  of  the  Deity,  that  it  conflicts  with  the  natural  intuitions  of  the 
human  mind.  It  is  asserted  that  the  instinctive  sentiments  of  the  soul 
repel  the  doctrine  of  anger  against  sin.  The  ethics  of  nature,  say  these 
theorizers,  are  contrary  to  the  ethics  of  scripture  upon  this  point,  and  hence 
mankind  must  make  a  choice  between  the  two.  But  a  careful  study  of  the 
most  profound  systems  of  natural  religion  does  not  corroborate  this  asser¬ 
tion.  Probably  no  mind,  outside  of  the  pale  of  Christianity,  has  made  a 
more  discriminating  and  truthful  representation  of  the  natural  sentiments 
of  the  human  mind,  than  Aristotle  But  this  dispassionate  thinker  asserts 
that  “  lie  who  feels  anger  on  proper  occasions,  at  proper  persons,  and  in  a 
proper  manner,  and  for  a  proper  length  of  time,  is  an  object  of  praise.”  — 
Nicomachean  Ethics,  Book  IV.  c.  5. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


nally  from  pure  and  innocent  spirits,  and  were  the 
revelry  of  joy  to  steam  up  everlastingly  from  the  souls 
of  the  vile  and  the  worthless  ;  were  the  great  relations 
of  right  and  wrong,  sin  and  penalty,  happiness  and 
misery,  once  to  be  reversed  in  the  universe,  and  under  the 
government  of  God,  then  indeed  this  quick  sense  of 
justice,  and  this  holy  indignation  at  sin,  would  be  a  grief 
and  a  sorrow  to  its  possessor.  And  therefore  it  is,  that, 
in  all  the  Divine  administration,  and  in  the  entire  plan 
of  redemption,  the  utmost  possible  pains  is  taken  to 
justify,  and  legitimate,  and  satisfy  this  judicial  senti¬ 
ment,  and  to  see  that  its  demands  are  fully  met. 

There  must  be  this  correspondence  between  the  judi¬ 
cial  nature  of  man  and  the  judicial  nature  of  God,  or 
religion  is  impossible.  How  can  man  even  know  what 
is  meant  by  justice  in  the  Deity,  if  there  is  absolutely 
nothing  of  the  same  species  in  his  own  rational  consti¬ 
tution,  which  if  realized  in  his  own  character  as  it  is  in 
that  of  God,  would  make  him  just  as  God  is  just  ?  How 
can  he  know  what  is  meant  by  moral  perfection  in  God, 
if  in  his  own  rational  spirit  there  is  absolutely  no  ideal 
of  moral  excellence,  which  if  realized  in  himself  as  it  is 
in  the  Creator,  would  make  him  excellent  as  he  is  excel¬ 
lent  ?  Without  some  mental  correspondent,  to  which 
to  appeal  and  commend  themselves,  the  teachings  of 
revelation  could  not  be  apprehended.  A  body  of  know! 
edge  alone  is  not  the  whole  ;  there  must  be  an  inlet  foi 
it,  an  organ  of  apprehension.  But  if  there  is  no  such 
particular  part  of  the  human  constitution  as  has  been 
described,  and  these  calm  judgments  of  the  moral  sense, 
and  this  righteous  displeasure  of  the  conscience,  are  to 
be  put  upon  a  level  with  the  workings  of  the  fancy  and 
imagination,  or  the  selfish  passions  of  the  human  heart, 
*ben  there  is  no  point  of  contact  and  communication 


2S4 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


between  the  nature  of  man  and  the  being  of  God. 
There  is  no  part  of  his  own  complex  being  upon  which 
man  may  fall  back,  with  the  certainty  of  not  being  mis¬ 
taken  in  judgments  of  ethics  and  religion.  Both  anchor 
and  anchoring-ground  are  gone,  and  he  is  afloat  upon 
the  boundless,  starless  ocean  of  ignorance  and  scepti¬ 
cism.  Even  if  revelations  are  made,  they  cannot  enter 
his  mind.  There  is  no  contacting  surface  through 
which  they  can  approach  and  take  hold  of  his  being. 
They  cannot  be  seen  to  be  what  they  really  are,  the 
absolute  truth  of  God,  because  there  is  no  eye  with 
which  to  see  them. 

Assuming,  then,  that  there  is  this  correspondence  and 
correlationship  between  the  moral  constitution  of  man 
and  the  Divine  Nature,  we  proceed,  in  the  light  of  the 
fact,  to  evince  the  doctrine,  taught  in  the  scripture  texts 
which  we  have  cited,  that  the  atonement  of  Christ  is  a 
real  satisfaction  both  on  the  part  of  God  and  man.  The 
death  of  incarnate  Deity  has  always  been  regarded,  by 
those  who  have  believed  that  the  Deity  became  incar- 
'  nate  in  Jesus  Christ,  as  expiatory.  As  such,  it  relates 
immediately  to  the  attribute  of  justice  in  the  Creator, 
and  to  the  faculty  of  conscience  in  the  creature.  And 
the  position  taken  here,  is  that  it  sustains  the  same  rela¬ 
tion  to  both.  It  satisfies  that  which  would  be  dissatis¬ 
fied  both  in  God  and  man  if  the  penalty  of  sin  were 
merely  set  aside  and  abolished  by  an  act  of  will.  It 
placates  an  ethical  feeling  which  is  manifesting  itself  in 
the  form  of  remorse  in  the  conscience  of  the  trans¬ 
gressor,  only  because  it  has  first  existed  in  the  nature 
of  God  in  the  form  of  a  judicial  displeasure  towards 
moral  evil. 

A  fundamental  attribute  of  Deity  is  justice.  This 
comes  first  into  view,  and  continues  in  sight  to  the  very 


THE  DOCTRI N  E  OF  ATONEMENT. 


2S5 


last,  in  all  inquiries  into  the  Divine  Nature.  No  attri¬ 
bute  can  be  conceived  of  that  is  more  ultimate  and 
central  than  this  one.  This  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
the  operation  of  all  the  other  Divine  attributes,  love 
itself  not  excepted,  is  conditioned  and  limited  by  justice. 
For  whatever  else  God  may  be,  or  may  not  be,  he  must 
be  just.  It  is  not -optional  with  him  to  exercise  this 
attribute,  or  not  to  exercise  it,  as  it  is  in  the  instance 
of  that  class  of  attributes  which  are  antithetic  to  it. 
We  can  say  :  u  God  may  be  merciful  or  not,  as  he 
pleases  ;  ”  but  we  cannot  say  :  “  God  may  be  just  or  not, 
as  he  pleases.”  It  cannot  be  asserted  that  God  is  inex¬ 
orably  obligated  to  show  pity  ;  but  it  can  be  categori¬ 
cally  affirmed  that  God  is  inexorably  obligated  to  do 
justly.*  For  the  characteristic  of  justice  is  necessary 
exaction;  while,  if  we  may  accommodate  a  Shaksperean 
phrase,  u  the  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained Hence 
the  exercise  of  justice  can  be  demonstrated  upon 
d  priori  grounds,  while  that  of  mercy  is  known  only  by 
a  declaration  or  promise  upon  the  part  of  God.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  man  can  have  no  certainty  that  the 

*  Owen  (Dissertation  on  Divine  Justice,  Chap.  II.),  notices  the  self-con¬ 
tradiction  there  is,  in  conceding  that  justice  is  an  essential  attribute  in  God, 
and  yet  that  it  can  be  set  aside  by  an  act  of  arbitrary  omnipotence,  in  the 
following  terms  :  “  To  me,  these  arguments  are  altogether  astonishing, 
viz. :  ‘  That  sin-punishing  justice  should  be  natural  to  God,  and  yet  that 
God,  sin  being  supposed  to  exist,  may  either  exercise  it,  or  not  exercise  it.’ 
They  may  also  say,  and  with  as  much  propriety,  that  truth  is  natural  to 
God,  but  upon  a  supposition  that  he  were  to  converse  with  man,  he  might 
either  use  it,  or  not ;  or,  that  omnipotence  is  natural  to  God,  hut  upon  a 
supposition  that  he  were  inclined  to  do  any  work  without  (extra)  himself, 
that  it  were  free  to  him  to  act  omnipotently  or  not ;  or,  finally,  that  sin-punishing 
justice  is  among  the  primary  causes  of  the  death  of  Christ,  and  that  Christ 
was  set  forth  as  a  propitiation,  to  declare  his  righteousness,  and  yet  that 
that  justice  required  not  the  punishment  of  sin.  For  if  it  should  require  it, 
how  is  it  possible  that  it  should  not  necessarily  require  it,  since  God  would 
be  unjust,  if  he  should  not  inflict  punishment. ” 


286 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


Deity  is  a  merciful  being,  except  as  be  obtains  it  from  a 
special  revelation.  When  the  thoughtful  pagan  looked 
up  into  the  pure  heavens  above  him,  or  into  the  deep 
recesses  within  him,  he  had  no  doubt  that  the  Infinite 
One  is  just,  and  a  punisher  of  evil  doing,  because  he 
must  be  such.  Hence  he  trembled  ;  and  hence  he 
offered  a  propitiatory  sacrifice.  But  neither  from  the 
heavens,  nor  from  anything  in  his  own  moral  constitu¬ 
tion,  could  he  obtain  certainty  in  regard  to  the  attribute 
of  mercy  ;  because  there  is  nothing  of  a  necessary  na¬ 
ture  in  the  exercise  of  this  attribute.  God  might  or 
might  not  be  merciful  to  him.  Man  may  dare  to  hope 
that  there  is  pity  in  the  Deity;  but  whether  there  actu¬ 
ally  is,  he  cannot  know  with  certainty  until  the  heavens 
are  opened,  and  a  voice  issues  from  the  lips  of  the 
Supreme  himself,  saying :  “  I  will  show  mercy,  and  this 
is  my  beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased.”  The 
light  of  nature  is  sufficient  for  man’s  damnation  ;  but  it 
casts  not  a  ray  in  the  direction  of  his  salvation.  There 
is  ample  evidence  from  natural  religion  that  the  Deity 
is  holy  and  impartial ;  but  it  is  only  from  revealed  re¬ 
ligion  that  the  human  mind  obtains  its  warrant  for 
believing  in  the  Divine  clemency.  From  the  position 
of  natural  ethics  alone,  man  is  merely  condemned  to 
retribution  ;  and,  as  matter  of  fact,  while  standing  only 
upon  this  position,  his  conscience  accuses  him,  and  fills 
him  with  fears  and  forebodings  of  judgment.  Noth¬ 
ing  but  a  promise  of  forgiveness,  from  the  mouth  of 
God,  can  remove  these  fears ;  but  a  promise  to  pardon 
is  not  d  priori ,  and  necessary,  like  a  threatening  to 
punish. 

The  absolute  and  indefeasible  nature  of  justice  is 
seen,  again,  by  considering  the  nature  of  law.  If  we 
regard  the  moral  law  as  the  efflux  of  the  Divine  Nature, 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


287 


and  not,  as  in  the  Grotian  theory,  a  positive  statute 
which  may  be  relaxed  in  part,  or  wholly  abrogated,  by 
the  law-making  power,*  we  find  this  same  stark  neces¬ 
sity  existing.  The  law  is  obligated  to  punish  the  trans¬ 
gressor,  as  much  as  the  transgressor  is  obligated  to  obey 
the  law.  Human  society,  for  instance,  has  claim  upon 
law  for  penalty,  as  really  as  law  has  claim  upon  human 
society  for  obedience.  Law  has  no  option.  Justice 
has  but  one  function.  The  necessity  of  penalty  is  as 
great  as  the  necessity  of  obligation.  The  law  itself 
is  under  law  ;  that  is,  it  is  under  the  necessity  of  its 
own  nature  ;  and  therefore  the  only  possible  way 
whereby  a  transgressor  can  escape  the  penalty  of  law, 
is  for  a  substitute  to  endure  it  for  him.  The  language 
of  Milton  respecting  the  transgressor  is  metaphysically 
true  : 

*  “  All  positive  laws,”  says  Grotius  (Defensio  Fidei,  Caput.  III.  p.  310, 
Ed.  Amstelaedemi,  1679),  “  are  relaxable.  Those  who  fear  that  if  we  con¬ 
cede  this,  we  do  an  injury  to  God  because  we  thereby  represent  him  as  mu¬ 
table,  are  much  deceived.  For  law  is  not  something  internal  in  God,  or  in  the 
will  itself  of  God,  but  it  is  a  particular  effect  or  product  of  his  will  (voluntatis 
quidam  effectus).  But  that  the  effects,  or  products  of  the  Divine  will  are 
mutable,  is  very  certain.  Moreover,  in  promulgating  a  positive  law,  which 
he  might  wish  to  relax  at  some  future  time,  God  does  not  exhibit  any 
fickleness  of  will.  For  God  seriously  indicated  that  he  desired  that  his  law 
should  be  valid,  and  obligatory;  while  yet  he  reserved  the  right  of  relaxing  it, 
if  he  saiv  ft,  because  this  right  pertains  to  a  positive  law,  from  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  and  cannot  be  abdicated  by  the  Deity.  Nay  more,  the 
Deity  does  not  abdicate  the  right  of  even  abrogating  law  altogether,  as  is 
apparent  from  the  instance  of  the  ceremonial  law.”  Grotius  then  proceeds 
to  apply  this  principle  to  the  moral  law,  and  the  penalty  accompanying 
it,  and  though  intending  to  counteract  the  Socinian  theory,  lays  down  posi¬ 
tions  which  in  the  judgment  of  dogmatic  historians  logically  lead  to  it. — 
See  Baumgarten —  Crusius  (Dogmengeschichte,  II.  274)  ;  Miinscher  —  Von 
Colin  —  NeudecJcer  (Dogmengeschichte,  III.  508);  Baur  ( Versohnungslehre, 
414 — 435, — translated  in  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  IX.  259 — 272  i;  Hagenbach , 
(Dogmengeschichte,  3  Aufl.  §  268)  ;  Erschund  Gruber’s  Encyclopadie  (Art. 
Acceptiiatio)  ;  Hengstenbery’s  Kirchen-Zeitung  for  1834. 


2S8 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


“  He,  with  all  his  posterity,  must  die : 

Die  he,  or  justice  must ;  unless  for  him 
Some  other  able,  and  as  willing,  pay 
The  rigid  satisfaction,  death  for  death.”  * 


And  the  mercy  of  God  consists  in  substituting  Himself 
incarnate  for  his  creature ,  for  purposes  of  atonement. 
Analyzed  to  its  ultimate  elements,  God’s  pity  towards 
the  soul  of  man  is  God’s  satisfying  his  own  eternal 
attribute  of  justice  for  it.  It  does  not  consist  in  out¬ 
raging  his  own  law,  and  the  guilt-smitten  conscience 
itself,  by  simply  snatching  the  criminal  away  from  their 
retributions,  in  the  exercise  of  an  unprincipled  and  an 
unbridled  almightiness,  or  in  substituting  a  partial  for  a 
complete  atonement ;  but  in  enduring  the  full  and 
entire  penal  infliction  by  which  both  are  satisfied.! 


*  Paradise  Lost,  III.  209 — 212. 

t  It  was  one  of  the  objections  of  Socinus  to  the  theory  of  plenary  satis¬ 
faction,  that  if  God  has  received  a  full  equivalent  for  the  punishment  due 
to  man,  then  he  does  not  exercise  any  mercy  in  remitting  his  sin.  But  this 
objection  overlooks  the  fact  that  the  equivalent  is  not  furnished  by  man,  but 
by  God.  Were  the  atonement  the  creature’s  oblation  to  justice,  Socinus’s 
objection  would  have  force.  But  it  is  God,  and  not  man,  who  satisfies 
justice  for  the  sinner.  It  is  indeed  a  se//-satisfaction  upon  the  part  of  God, 
yet  none  the  less  a  self ‘-sacrifice ;  and  self-sacrifice  is  confessedly  the  highest 
form  of  love.  The  truth  is,  that  this  objection  of  Socinus  begs  the  ques¬ 
tion  in  dispute,  by  defining  mercy  in  its  own  way.  It  assumes  (as  Socinus 
expressly  argues,  Bib.  Frat.  Pol.  I.  566  sq.)  that  the  ideas  of  satisfaction 
and  mercy  mutually  exclude  each  other ;  that  mercy  consists  in  relaxing 
and  waiving  justice,  and  not  in  vicariously  satisfying  it.  From  this  premiss 
it  follows,  of  course,  that  where  there  is  any  satisfaction  of  justice  there  is 
no  mercy,  and  where  there  is  any  waiving  of  justice  there  is  mercy.  A 
complete  atonement,  consequently,  would  exclude  mercy  altogether  ;  a  par¬ 
tial  atonement  would  allow  some  room  for  mercy,  in  partially  waiving  legal 
claims  ;  and  no  atonement  jTt  all  would  afford  full  play  for  the  attribute, 
by  the  entire  nullification  of  all  judicial  demands.  According  to  the  catholic 
view,  on  the  contrary,  the  ideas  of  satisfaction  and  mercy  are  combined 
and  harmonized  in  a  vicarious  atonement,  or  the  assumption  of  penalty  by 
a  competent  person.  If  the  sinner  himself  should  suffer  the  penalty,  there 


TIIE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


280 


Still  another  proof  of  the  primary  nature  of  justice 
is  found  in  the  fact  of  human  accountability.  The 
most  distinguishing  characteristic  of  man  is  evidence  of 
the  most  distinguishing  characteristic  of  God  ;  and  thus 
the  correspondence  between  the  Divine  and  the  human 
meets  us  again.  Man  is  not  a  link  in  the  necessary  chain 
of  material  nature.  He  is  by  creation  a  free  creature ; 
capable  of  continuing  holy  as  he  was  created,  or  of 
turning  to  sin.  Now,  over  against  this  freedom  and  re¬ 
sponsibility  on  the  part  of  man,  there  stands  justice  on 
the  part  of  God.  This  great  divine  attribute  presup¬ 
poses  the  hazardous  human  endowment  of  will ,  and 
holds  the  possessor  of  it  accountable  for  its  use  or 
abuse.  Without  such  a  characteristic,  man  could  not 
stand  in  any  sort  of  relationship  to  such  solemn  realities 
as  law  and  justice.  There  would  be  nothing  in  his  con¬ 
stitution  that  could  feel  the  tremendous  swing  and 
blow  of  penal  infliction.  For  justice  smites  a  trans¬ 
gressor  as  one  who  has  illegitimately  assumed  a  centre 
of  his  own,  and  who  is  wickedly  standing  upon  that 
centre,  in  hostility  to  the  being  and  government  of  God. 
In  a  certain  sense,  though  not  that  which  excludes  the 
permissive  decree  and  the  preventive  power  of  the  Su¬ 
preme  Being,  justice  supposes  the  sinner  to  be  sustain¬ 
ing  something  of  the  isolated  and  self-asserting  relation 
to  God  that  the  principle  of  evil  in  the  system  of  dual-  * 
ism  sustains  to  the  principle  of  good  ;  and  when  the 
accountable  self-will  of  a  creature  attempts  to  set  itself 
up  as  an  independent  and  hostile  agent  in  the  doing 

would  be  no  vicariousness  in  the  suffering,  and  there  would  be  the  execu¬ 
tion  of  justice  merely,  without  any  mercy.  But  Avhen  the  incarnate  Son 
of  God,  as  the  sinner’s  substitute,  endures  the  penalty  due  to  sin,  justice  is 
satisfied  by  the  suffering  which  is  undergone  ;  and  the  Son  of  God,  surely, 
shows  the  height  of  compassion  in  undergoing  it. 


290 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


of  evil,  it  then  feels  the  full  force  of  the  avenging, 
vindicating  stroke  of  law,  as  if  it  were  a  single  dis¬ 
connected  atom,  all  alone  and  by  itself,  in  the  middle 
of  creation. 

Any  just  view  of  sin  as  guilt,  as  the  product  of  will, 
is,  consequently,  corroborative  of  the  position  that  the 
attribute  of  which  we  are  speaking  is  an  immanent  and 
necessary  one  in  the  Divine  Nature.  We  might  con¬ 
ceive  of  the  same  amount  of  evil  consequences  as  those 
which  flow  from  human  transgression  ;  but  if  this  latter 
were  not  the  real  work  and  agency  of  a  responsible 
creature,  Eternal  Justice  could  take  no  cognizance  of  it. 
Unless  sin  is  crime,  penalty  has  no  more  relation  to  it 
than  it  has  to  the  disease  and  corruption  in  the  material 
world  about  us  ;  and  the  fall  of  man  could  no  more  be 
visited  by  the  infliction  of  judicial  suffering,  than  could 
that  process  of  decay  which  is  continually  going  on  in 
the  forests,  by  means  of  which  a  more  luxuriant  vege¬ 
tation  springs  up,  and  a  more  glorious  forest  waves  in 
the  breeze. 

It  has  been  a  query  among  those  who  have  spec¬ 
ulated  upon  the  nature  of  the  Deity  :  What  is  the  base 
or  substrate  of  His  being?  The  inquiry  has  too  often 
been  so  answered  as  to  bring  in  a  subtle  pantheism, 
because  there  was  more  reference  to  the  natural  than 
•  the  ethical  attributes  of  the  Godhead.  Whether  the 
question  in  such  a  reference  can  be  answered  by  the 
finite  mind,  we  do  not  pretend  to  decide  here  ;  but  with 
reference  to  God’s  moral  constitution,  with  reference  to 
that  congeries  of  ethical  attributes  which  belongs  to  him 
as  a  personal  being,  it  is  as  certain  as  anything  can  be, 
that  the  deep  substrate  and  base  of  them  all,  is  eternal 
law  and  impartial  justice.  This  pervades  all  the  resfi 
keeps  them  in  equilibrium,  and  constitutes,  as  it  were, 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


291 


the  very  divinity  of  the  Deity.  And  this  view  of  the 
primary  nature  of  justice  coincides  with  the  convictions 
of  men  in  all  ages.  In  all  time,  justice  has  been  the 
one  particular  divine  attribute  that  has  pressed  most 
heavily  upon  the  human  race.  This  always  comes  first 
into  man’s  mind,  when  the  idea  of  the  Deity  over¬ 
shadows  him.  He  trembles  when  he  remembers  that 
God  is  just ;  and  he  remembers  this  when  he  remem¬ 
bers  nothing  else.  Nor  let  it  be  objected  that  this  is 
owing  to  the  fact  that  man  is  sinful,  and  t hat  this  qual¬ 
ity  in  the  Supreme  Being  would  not  be  so  prominent  in 
the  mind  of  an  unfallen  creature  who  has  nothing  to 
fear  from  it.  The  utterance  of  the  pure  burning  sera¬ 
phim  is  :  Holy,  Holy,  Holy.  That  which  comes  first 
into  the  minds  of  the  spotless  and  unfearing  worship¬ 
pers  in  God’s  immediate  presence,  —  they  whose  spirits, 
in  the  phrase  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  “are  becalmed,  and 
made  even  as  the  brow  of  Jesus,  and  smooth  like  the 
heart  of  God,” — -is  that  particular  characteristic  in  the 
Divine  Being,  by  virtue  of  which  he  has  a  right  to  sit 
on  the  eternal  throne  ;  that  specific  attribute  upon  which 
the  moral  administration  of  the  universe  must  be  estab¬ 
lished. 

Now,  if  this  be  a  correct  statement  of  the  necessary 
nature  and  the  capital  position  of  Divine  Justice,  it  is 
plain  that  any  plan  or  method  that  has  to  do  with  sin 
and  guilt,  must  have  primary  reference  to  it,  and  must 
give  plenary  satisfaction  to  it  as  it  exists  in  God  himself. 
Inasmuch  as  justice,  and  not  mercy,  is  the  limiting  and 
conditioning  attribute,  its  demands  must  be  acknowl¬ 
edged  and  met  in  order  that  mercy  may  make  even  the 
first  advances  towards  the  transgressor.  Compassion 
cannot,  by  mere  arbitrary  will  and  might,  stride  forward 
to  reach  its  own  private  ends,  and  trample  down  justice 


292 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


by  sheer  force  ;  but  must  come  forth,  as  she  does  in  the 
bleeding  Lamb  of  God,  as  the  voluntary  servant  and 
victim  of  Law,  doing  all  its  behests,  and  bearing  all  its 
burdens,  and  enduring  its  sharp,  inexorable  pains,  in  the 
'place  of  (vice,  vicarie)  the  helpless  object  whom  ven¬ 
geance  suffereth  not  to  live.  The  cup  must  be  put  to 
the  lips  of  him  who  has  volunteered  to  be  the  Atoner, 
and  he  must  drink  it  to  the  bottom,  for  the  guilty  trans¬ 
gressor  whose  law-place  he  has  taken.  The  God-man 
having,  out  of  his  own  free  will  and  affection,  become 
the  sinner’s  Substitute ,  must  now  receive  a  sinner’s  treat¬ 
ment,  and  be  u  numbered  with  the  transgressors”  (Isa. 
liii.  12).  He  cannot  therefore  escape  the  agony  and 
passion,  the  hour  and  the  power  of  darkness.  He  may 
give  expression  to  his  spontaneous  shrinking  from  the 
awful  self-oblation,  as  the  hour  darkens  and  draws  on, 
in  the  utterance  :  “  O  my  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let 
this  cup  pass  from  me;”  but  having  taken  the  place  of 
the  guilty,  it  is  not  possible,  and  he  must  sweat  the 
bloody  sweat,  he  must  cry :  “  My  God,  my  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?”  that  his  voice  may  then  ring 
through  the  universe  and  down  the  ages  :  “It  is  finished, 
—  the  atonement  is  made.”* 

For  the  Deity  cannot,  by  an  arbitrary  and  unprin¬ 
cipled  procedure,  release  the  transgressor’s  Substitute 
from  the  penal  suffering,  and  inflict  a  wound  upon  that 
holy  judicial  nature,  which  is  vital  in  every  part  with 

*  u  The  justice  of  God  is  exceedingly  glorified  in  this  work.  God  is  so 
strictly  and  immutably  just,  that  he  would  not  spare  his  beloved  Son  when 
he  took  upon  him  the  guilt  of  men’s  sins,  and  was  substituted  in  the  room 
of  sinners.  He  Avould  not  abate  him  the  least  mite  of  that  debt  which 
justice  demanded.  Justice  should  take  place,  though  it*cost  his  infinitely 
dear  Son  his  precious  blood  ;  and  his  enduring  such  extraordinary  reproach, 
and  pain,  and  death  in  its  most  dreadful  form.”  —  Edwards’s  Works,  IV. 
140. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


293 


the  breath  of  law  and  the  life  of  justice.  By  reason  of 
an  immanent  necessity,  he  cannot  disturb  his  own  eter¬ 
nal  sense  of  righteousness  and  ethical  tranquillity,  by 
doing  damage  to  one  whole  side  of  his  Godhead. 

He  has  not.  In  the  voluntary,  the  cordially  offered, 
sacrifice  of  the  incarnate  Son,  the  judicial  nature  of 
God,  which  by  a  constitutional  necessity  requires  the 
punishment  of  sin,  finds  its. righteous  requirement  fully 
met.  Plenary  punishment  is  inflicted  upon  One  who  is 
infinite,  and  therefore  competent;  upon  One  who  is 
finite,  and  therefore  passible  ;  upon  One  who  is  inno¬ 
cent,  and  therefore  can  suffer  for  others;  upon  One  who 
is  voluntary,  and  therefore  uncompelled.  By  this  the- 
anthropic  oblation,  the  ethical  feeling,  the  organic  emo¬ 
tion  of  displeasure  in  the  Deity  is,  in  the  scripture 
phrase,  made  “propitious”  towards  the  guilty,  because 
it  has  been  placated  by  it.  Thus  God  is  immutably 
just  while  he  justifies  (Bom.  iii.  26),  and  his  mercy  is, 
in  the  last  analysis,  one  with  his  truth  and  his  law. 

We  turn,  now,  to  the  other  half  of  the  proposition 
derived  from  the  scripture  texts  that  have  been  cited, 
and  proceed  to  show  that  the  atonement  of  Christ 
effects  a  real  satisfaction  upon  the  part  of  man.  We 
have  seen  that  the  propitiatory  death  of  the  God-man 
meets  the  immanent  ethical  necessities  of  the  Divine 
Nature.  We  have  now  the  easier  task  of  evincing  that 
it  meets  the  moral  wants  of  human  nature. 

In  discussing  the  fact  of  a  divinely-established  cor- 
respondence  between  the  judicial  nature  of  man  and 
that  of  God,  we  have  already  observed  that  the  attribute 
of  justice  naturally  selects  this  judicial  part  of  man  as 
the  inlet  of  approach  to  him.  Eternal  law  has,  in  all 
ages,  poured  itself  down  through  the  human  conscience , 
like  a  fountain  through  the  channel  it  has  worn  for 


294 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


itself,  and  in  this  instance  like  hot  lava  down  a  moun¬ 
tain  gorge.  Hence  by  watching  its  workings  within 
this  particular  faculty,  we  are  enabled  to  determine 
what  man’s  judicial  nature  requires,  and  also  inciden¬ 
tally  to  throw  back  some  more  light  upon  the  relations 
of  the  atonement  to  the  Divine  Nature.  It  is  indeed 
true  that  Divine  Justice  manifests  itself  in  other  modes 
than  this.  There  are  revelations  of  it  in  the  written 
word,  and  in  the  course  of  providence  and  human  his¬ 
tory.  But  we  are  endeavoring  to  establish  the  position 
that  the  atonement  has  an  internal  necessity  grounded 
in  the  very  moral  being  of  man.  It  is  necessary,  there¬ 
fore,  to  look  at  the  principle  of  law  in  its  vital  and  felt 
manifestation  within  the  soul  of  the  criminal  himself. 
By  the  analysis  of  the  contents  of  a  remorseful  con¬ 
science,  especially  if  it  has  been  made  unusually  living 
and  poignant  by  the  truth  and  Spirit  of  God,  we  may 
discover  much  of  the  real  quality  of  Eternal  Justice. 
As  this  august  attribute  acts  and  reacts  within  the 
breast  of  man  upon  his  violation  of  law,  we  may  obtain 
some  clear  and  conscious  knowledge  of  its  nature  and 
operations ;  and  also  of  what  the  human  conscience 
itself  demands,  and  with  what  it  is  satisfied. 

The  commission  of  sin  is  either  attended  or  suc¬ 
ceeded  by  the  sensation  of  guilt ,  —  one  of  the  most  dis¬ 
tinct  and  unique  of  all  the  sensations  that  emerge 
within  the  horizon  of  self-consciousness.  Provided  con¬ 
science  does  its  nn mixed  work,  the  transgressor  is  con¬ 
scious,  not  merely  of  unhappiness,  which  is  a  very  low 
form  of  feeling,  but  of  criminality ,  which  is  a  very  high 
form.  Nay,  the  more  profound  and  thorough  the  ope¬ 
ration  of  the  moral  faculty  becomes,  the  more  does  the 
sense  of  mere  wretchedness  retreat  into  the  back¬ 
ground,  and  the  sense  of  ill-desert  come  forth  into  the 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


295 


foreground  of  consciousness.  It  is  possible  for  this 
latter  element  to  drive  out,  for  a  time,  the  particular 
feeling  of  misery,  and  to  absorb  the  mind  in  the  sense 
of  horror  and  amazement  at  the  past  transgression. 
The  guilty,  in  the  final  day,  are  represented  as  calling 
upon  the  rocks  and  the  mountains  to  fall  upon  them, 
as  inviting  new  forms  of  suffering,  in  the  vain  hope 
that  the  awful  consciousness  of  crime  may  be  drowned 
thereby. 

Now,  seizing  and  holding  the  experience  of  the  trans¬ 
gressor  at  this  point,  let  us  examine  it  more  closely. 
Notice  that  this  consciousness  of  guilt,  pure  and  simple, 
is  wholly  involuntary.  It  comes  in  upon  the  criminal, 
not  only  without  his  will,  but  in  spite  of  it.  He  would 
keep  it  out,  if  he  could.  He  would  drive  it  out,  if  he 
could.  His  experience  at  this  stage,  then,  is  the  result 
of  no  voluntary  effort  upon  his  part,  but  of  the  simple 
reaction  of  law ,  the  most  dispassionate  and  unselfish  of 
all  realities,  against  its  violator.  In  the  conscience,  that 
part  of  the  human  constitution  which  we  have  seen  to 
be  the  proper  seat  and  organ  for  such  an  operation,  the 
commandment  is  making  itself  felt  again,  not  as  at 
first  in  the  form  of  command,  but  of  condemnation. 
The  free  agent  has  responsibly  disobeyed  the  holy, 
just,  and  good  statute,  and  is  now  feeling  the  tremen¬ 
dous  reaction  of  it  in  his  own  moral  being.  This  re¬ 
morse,  or  damnatory  emotion,  therefore,  is  the  work  of 
God's  law,  and  not  of  man’s  will.  There  is,  conse¬ 
quently,  very  little  of  the  selfish  and  the  earthly,  but 
much  of  the  unearthlv  and  the  eternal,  in  the  trans- 
gressor’s  experience  held  at  this  point.  He  can  take  no 
merit  to  himself,  because  it  is  of  such  an  intensely 
ethical  and  spiritual  character,  since  the  entire  process, 
so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  is  involuntary  and  organic.  It 


296 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


is  provided  for  in  his  judicial  constitution,  and  as  an 
operation  within  himself  it  is  to  be  regarded,  not  as  the 
working  of  his  corrupt  heart,  but  as  the  infliction  of  Di¬ 
vine  retribution  and  justice,  in  and  through  the  judicial 
faculty.  Man  can  take  no  merit  to  himself  because  he 
possesses  a  power  that  condemns  evil,  and  distresses 
therefor.  For  this  is  the  workmanship  of  the  Creator, 
and  it  exists  in  hell  as  well  as  heaven.  The  workings 
of  conscience  are  as  much  beyond  the  control  of  the 
will,  are  as  truly  organic,  as  those  of  the  sympathetic 
nerve,  and  therefore  are  worthy  of  neither  praise  nor 
blame.  Given  conscience  and  sin,  within  one  and  the 
same  soul,  and  remorse  must  follow  as  a  matter  of 
necessity.  Hence  remorse  is  never  made  the  subject  of 
a  command.  Man  is  commanded  to  melt  down  in 
godly  sorrow,  but  never  to  be  filled  with  remorse  ;  for 
this  is  provided  for  in  the  moral  constitution  given  by 
Him  who  makes  it  the  fiery  chariot  by  which  he  him¬ 
self  rides  into  man’s  being,  in  majesty,  to  judgment. 

Hence  this  sense  of  ill-desert,  though  its  sensorium  is 
the  human  conscience,  must  be  traced  back  for  its  first 
cause,  to  a  yet  deeper  ground,  and  a  yet  higher  origin. 
For  if  it  were  a  fact,  that  remorse  had  nothing  but  a 
human  source,  though  that  source  were  the  highest  and 
most  venerable  of  the  human  faculties,  and  the  trans¬ 
gressor  should  know  it,  he  could  overcome  and  suppress 
if.  Nothing  that  has  a  merely  finite  origin  can  be  a 
permanent  source  of  misery;  and  if  the  victim  of  re¬ 
morse  could  but  be  certain  that  the  just  and  holy  God 
has  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  origin  of  the  distress 
within  him,  he  could  ultimately  expel  it  from  his  breast. 
If  he  could  be  assured  that  the  terrible  emotion  which 
follows  the  commission  of  evil,  though  welling  up  from 
the  lowest  springs  of  his  own  nature,  yet  has  no  con- 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


297 


nection  with  the  nether  fountains  of  the  Divine  Essence, 
he  could  put  an  end  to  his  torment.  For  no  man  is 
afraid  of  himself  alone,  and  irrespective  of  his  Maker 
and  Judge.  That  which  renders  a  portion  of  our  coni' 
mon  and  finite  humanity  terrible  to  us,  is  the  fact,  that 
it  is  grounded  in  and  supported  by  that  which  is  more 
than  human.  In  the  instance  before  us,  the  highest 
part  of  the  human  constitution  supports  itself  by  strik¬ 
ing  its  deep  roots  into  the  holiness  and  justice  of  the 
Godhead  ;  and  therefore  it  is  that  conscience  makes 
cowards  of  us  all,  and  its  remorse  is  a  feeling  that  is 
invincible  by  the  strongest  finite  will,  and  requires,  in 
order  to  its  extinction,  the  blood  of  atonement. 

We  are,  therefore,  compelled  back  into  the  being  and 
character  of  God,  for  the  ultimate  origin  of  this  sense 
of  guilt,  and  this  “fearful  looking-for  of  judgment  and 
fiery  indignation.”  And  why  should  we  not  be  ?  If 
Justice  is  living  and  sensitive  anywhere,  it  must  be  so 
in  its  eternal  seat  and  home.  If  law  is  jealous  for  its 
own  authority  and  maintenance  anywhere,  it  must  be  in 
that  Being  to  whom  all  eyes  in  the  universe  are  turned 
with  the  inquiry  :  “  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth 
do  right?”  What,  therefore,  Conscience  affirms,  in  the 
transgressor’s  case,  God  affirms,  and  is  the  first  to  affirm. 
What,  therefore,  conscience  feels  in  respect  to  the  sin¬ 
ner’s  transgression,  God  feels,  and  is  the  first  to  feel. 
What,  therefore,  conscience  requires  in  order  that  it 
may  cease  to  punish  the  guilty  spirit,  God  requires  and 
is  the  first  to  require.  In  fine,  all  that  is  requisite  in 
order  to  the  satisfaction  and  pacification  of  conscience 
towards  the  sinful  soul  in  which  it  dwells,  is  also  requi¬ 
site  in  order  to  the  satisfaction  and  “propitiation”  of 
God  the  Just ;  and  it  is  requisite  in  the  former  case  only 
because  it  is  first  requisite  in  the  latter.  The  subjective 


298 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


in  man  is  shaped  by  the  objective  in  God,  and  not  the 
objective  in  God  by  the  subjective  in  man.  The  con¬ 
sciousness  of  the  conscience  is  the  reflex  of  the  con¬ 
sciousness  of  God. 

But  what,  now,  does  conscience  require,  in  order  that 
it  may  become  pacified  with  respect  to  past  transgres¬ 
sion  ?  We  answer,  simply  and  solely  an  atonement  for 
that  past  transgression ;  simply  and  solely  that  just  inflic¬ 
tion  which  is  due  to  guilt.  That  is  a  powerful,  because 
profoundly  truthful,  passage  in  Coleridge’s  play  of  “  Re¬ 
morse,”  in  which  the  guilty  and  guilt-smitten  Ordonio  is 
stabbed  by  Alhadra,  the  wife  of  the  murdered  Isidore. 
As  the  steel  drinks  his  own  heart’s  blood,  he  utters  the 
one  single  word  “Atonement !  ”  His  self-accusing  spirit, 
which  is  wrung  with  its  remorseful  recollections,  and 
which  the  warm  and  hearty  forgiveness  of  his  injured 
brother  has  not  been  able  to  soothe  in  the  least,  actually 
feels  its  first  gush  of  relief  only  as  the  avenging  knife 
enters,  and  crime  meets  penalty.*  And  how  often,  in 
the  annals  of  guilt,  is  this  principle  illustrated!  The 
criminal  has  wandered  up  and  down  the  earth,  vainly 
seeking  repose  of  conscience,  but  finds  none  until  he 
surrenders  himself  to  the  penalty  of  law.  Those  are 
the  only  hopeful  executions,  in  which  the  guilty  goes  to 
his  death  justifying  the  judicial  sentence  that  condemns 
him,  and,  as  a  completing  act  of  the  solemn  mental 
process,  appropriating  that  yet  more  august  and  trans¬ 
cendent  expiation  which  has  been  made  for  man  by  a 
higher  Being  than  man.  A  guilty  conscience,  when  it 

*  Remorse,  Act  V.  Scene  1.  Coleridge's  Works ,  VII.  p.  401.  —  The 
psychology  of  crime,  or  the  analysis  of  the  consciousness  of  guilt  (Schuld- 
bewusztseyn),  is  a  portion  of  mental  philosophy  that  has  been  generally 
neglected.  The  only  treatise  specifically  devoted  to  it,  that  we  have  met 
with,  is  the  Criminal-Psgchologie  of  Heinroth. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONExlIENT. 


209 


has  come  to  a  clear  consciousness,  icants  its  guilt  expi¬ 
ated  by  the  infliction  of  punishment.  It  feels  that 
strange  unearthly  thirst  of  which  Christ  speaks,  and  for 
which  he  asserts  that  his  blood  of  atonement  is  u  drink 
indeed .”  It  cannot  be  made  peaceful  except  through 
the  medium  of  a  judicial  infliction;  that  is  to  say,  of  a 
particular  species  of  suffering  that  will  expiate  its  guilt. 
The  mere  offer  of  kindness,  or  good-humor,  to  remit  the 
sin  without  any  regard  to  that  eternal  law  of  retribution 
which  is  now  distressing  the  soul  by  its  righteous  claim, 
does  not  meet  the  ethical  wants.  The  moral  sense, 
when  in  normal  action,  feels  the  necessity  that  crime  be 
punished.  Hence  the  human  conscience  is  a  faculty 
that  is  unappeased,  and  gnaws  like  a  blind  worm,  until 
it  hears  of  the  Lamb,  the  Atonement ,  of  God,  that 
taketh  away  the  guilt  of  the  world.  Hence,  however 
much  the  selfish  heart  may  desire  to  escape  at  the 
expense  of  right  and  justice,  the  impartial  conscience 
can  do  no  such  thing.  Before  this  judicial  faculty  can 
be  pacified,  crime  must  incur  penalty,  transgression 
must  receive  an  exact  recompense  of  reward.  When 
this  is  done,  there  is  entire  pacification  ;  there  is  great 
peace,  such  as  death,  and  Satan  the  accuser,  and  the 
day  of  judgment,  and  the  bar  of  justice,  and  the  final 
doom,  cannot  disturb  with  a  single  ripple. 

For  the  correlate  to  guilt  is  punishment;  and  nothing 
but  the  correlate  itself  can  perform  the  function  of  a 
correlate.  A  liquid,  for  example,  is  the  correlative  to 
thirst,  and  nothing  that  is  not  liquid,  however  nutritious, 
and  necessary  to  human  life  in  other  relations,  it  may 
be,  can  be  a  substitute  for  it.  There  may  be  the  u  fat 
kidneys  of  wheat,”  in  superabundance,  but  if  there  be 
not  also  the  “  brook  in  the  way,”  the  human  body  must 
die  of  thirst.  In  like  manner,  a  judicial  infliction,  or 


800 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


suffering  for  purposes  of  justice,  is  the  only  means  by 
which  culpability  can  be  extinguished.  Sanctification, 
or  holiness,  in  this  reference,  is  powerless,  because  there 
is  nothing  penal,  nothing  correlated  to  guilt,  in  it.  The 
Tridentine  method  of  justification  by  sanctification,  is 
not  an  adaptation  of  means  to  ends.  So  far  as  the 
guilt  of  an  act,  —  in  other  words,  its  obligation  to  pun¬ 
ishment, —  is  concerned,  if  the  transgressor,  or  his  ac¬ 
cepted  substitute,*  has  endured  the  infliction  that  is  set 


*  Accepted  by  the  law  and  lawgiver.  The  primal  source  of  law  has  no 
power  to  abolish  penalty  any  more  than  to  abolish  law,  but  it  has  full  power 
to  substitute  penalty.  In  case  of  a  substitution,  however,  it  must  be  a  strict 
equivalent,  and  not  a  fictitious  or  nominal  one.  It  would  contravene  the 
attribute  of  justice,  instead  of  satisfying  it,  should  God,  for  instance,  by  an 
arbitrary  act  of  will,  substitute  the  sacrifice  of  bulls  and  goats  for  the  penalty 
due  to  man  ;  or  if  he  should  offset  any  finite  oblation  against  the  infinite 
demerit  of  moral  evil.  The  inquiry  whether  the  satisfaction  of  justice  by 
Christ’s  atonement  was  a  strict  and  literal  one,  has  a  practical  and  not  merely 
theoretical  importance.  A  guilt-smitten  conscience  is  exceedingly  timorous, 
and  lienee,  if  there  be  room  for  doubting  the  strict  adequacy  of  the  judicial 
provision  that  has  been  made  for  satisfying  the  claims  of  law,  a  perfect 
peace,  the  “  peace  of  God,”  is  impossible.  Hence  the  doctrine  of  a  plen¬ 
ary  satisfaction  by  an  infinite  substitute  is  the  only  one  that  ministers  to 
evangelical  repose.  The  dispute  upon  this  point  has  sometimes,  at  least, 
resulted  from  a  confusion  of  ideas  and.  terms.  Strict  equivalency  has  been 
confounded  with  identity.  The  assertion  that  Christ’s  death  is  a  literal 
equivalent  for  the  punishment  due  to  mankind,  has  been  supposed  to  be 
the  same  as  the  assertion,  that  it  is  identical  with  it ;  and  a  punishment 
identical  with  that  due  to  man  would  involve  remorse,  and  endless  dura¬ 
tion.  But  identity  of  punishment  is  ruled  out  by  the  principle  of  substi¬ 
tution  or  vicariousness,  —  a  principle  that  is  conceded  by  all  who  hold  the 
doctrine  of  atonement.  The  penalty  endured  by  Christ,  therefore,  must 
be  a  substituted,  and  not  an  identical  one.  And  the  only  question  that  re¬ 
mains  is,  whether  that  which  is  to  be  substituted  shall  be  of  a  strictly  equal 
value  with  that,  the  place  of  which  it  takes,  or  whether  it  may  be  of  an  in¬ 
ferior  value,  —  and  it  must  be  one  or  the  other.  When  a  loan  of  one  hun¬ 
dred  dollars  in  silver  is  repaid  by  one  hundred  dollars  in  gold,  there  is  a 
substitution  of  one  metal  for  another.  It  is  not  an  identical  payment ;  for 
this  would  require  the  return  of  the  very  identical  hundred  pieces  of  silver, 
the  ipsissima  pecunia,  that  had  been  loaned.  But  it  is  a  strictly  and  literally 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


SOI 


over  against  it,  the  law  is  satisfied,  and  the  obligation 
to  punishment  is  discharged.  And  so  far  as  guilt,  or 
obligation  to  punishment  is  concerned,  until  the  affixed 
penalty  has  been  endured,  by  himself  or  his  accepted 
substitute,  he  is  a  guilty  man,  do  what  else  he  may. 
Even  if  he  should  be  renewed  and  sanctified  by  the 
Spirit  of  C4od,  this  sanctification  has  in  it  nothing 
expiatory ,  or  correlative  to  guilt,  and  therefore  could  not 
remove  his  remorse.  ffiPood  is  good  and  necessary,  but 
it  cannot  slake  thirst.  Personal  holiness  is  excellent 
and  indispensable,  but  it  cannot  perform  the  function 
of  atonement.  Hence  sanctification  is  wrought  by 
spiritual  influences,  but  justification  by  expiating  blood. 
The  former  is  the  work  of  the  third  Person  in  the 
Trinity  ;  the  latter  is  that  of  the  second.  Hence,  when 
the  convicted  man  is  distressed  because  of  what  the 
Psalmist  denominates  the  “ iniquity  of  sin,”  its  intrinsic 
guilty  quality,  in  distinction  from  its  miserable  conse¬ 
quences,  he  craves  expiation  sometimes  with  a  hunger 
like  that  of  famine.  And  hence  his  desperate  endeavor 
to  atone  for  the  past,  until  he  discovers  that  it  is  impos¬ 
sible.  Then  he  cries  with  David  :  “  Thou  desirest  not 
sacrifice”  —  such  atonement  as  I  can  render  is  inade¬ 
quate —  “  else  would  I  give  it.”*  Taking  him  at  this 

equivalent  payment.  All  claims  are  cancelled  by  it.  In  like  manner,  when 
the  suffering  and  death  of  God  incarnate  is  substituted  for  that  of  the  crea¬ 
ture,  the  satisfaction  rendered  to  law  is  strictly  plenary,  though  not  identi¬ 
cal  with  that  which  is  exacted  from  the  transgressor.  It  contains  the  ele- 
ment  of  infinitude,  which  is  the  element  of  value  in  the  case,  with  even 
greater  precision  than  the  satisfaction  of  the  creature  does  ;  because  it  is  the 
suffering  of  a  strictly  infinite  Person  in  a  finite  time,  while  the  latter  is  only 
the  suffering  of  a  finite  person  in  an  endless  but  not  strictly  infinite  time. 
A  strictly  infinite  duration  would  be  without  beginning,  as  well  as  without 
end. 

*  The  true  and  accurate  rendering  of  Psalm  li.  7,  is  not  “purge  me  with 
hyssop,”  but  “ atone  me  (‘isynn)  with  hyssop.”  David,  in  the  poignancy 


302 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


point  in  his  experience,  his  desire  is  for  justification.  He 
wants,  first  of  all,  to  be  pardoned;  and,  be  it  observed, 
to  be  pardoned  upon  those  just  and  eternal  principles  that 
will  not  give  ivay  in  the  great  judicial  emergencies  of  this 
life  and  the  life  to  come.  Then  he  will  commence  the 
good  fight  of  faith.  Then  he  will  run  in  the  way  of 
obedience  with  an  exulting  heart,  because  he  is  no 
linger  under  condemnation.  “  Whom  he  justifies,  them 
he  glorifies.” 

Such,  it  is  conceived,  is  the  general  doctrine  of  atone¬ 
ment,  to  be  deduced  from  the  sharp  and  pointed  texts 
of  scripture  cited  in  the  outset  of  this  discussion.  The 
Christian  atonement  possesses  both  an  objective  and  a 
subjective  validity;  it  is  a  satisfaction  for  the  ethical 
nature  of  both  God  and  man. 

Having  thus  contemplated  the  inward  and  metaphys¬ 
ical  nature  of  that  atoning  work  of  incarnate  Deity, 
which  is  the  most  stupendous  fact  in  the  history  of  the 
world,  and  one  upon  which  all  its  religious  hopes  and 
welfare  hang,  we  naturally  turn,  in  conclusion,  to  the 
more  external  and  practical  aspects  of  the  great  theme. 
And  the  application  of  the  doctrine  will  be  found  to  be 
all  the  more  acceptable  to  the  Christian  heart,  and  pro¬ 
fitable  for  Christian  edification,  if  the  principles  and 
theory  from  which  it  flows  are  profound  and  thorough. 
The  cup  of  cold  water  is  all  the  more  grateful  to  the 
thirsty  soul,  if  it  has  been  drawn  up  from  the  deep 
wells;  and  it  is  certain  that  divine  truth  gains,  rather 
than  loses,  in  popular  and  practical  efficiency,  upon 
both  the  mind  and  heart,  if  it  be  sought  for  in  its  purest 
and  most  central  sources.  That  view  of  the  work  of 
Christ  which  represents  it  as  meeting  all  the  ethical 

of  his  consciousness  of  guilt,  prays,  not  for  a  cleansing  merely  but,  for  an 
expiatory  cleansing. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


303 


necessities  of  both  the  divine  and  the  human  natures, 
is  well  fitted  to  inspire  belief  and  trust  in  it,  and  to 
draw  out  the  heart  towards  its  Blessed  Author. 

1.  One  of  the  first  and  obvious  inferences,  then,  from 
the  subject  as  it  has  been  unfolded,  is,  that  an  atone¬ 
ment  for  sin  is  no  arbitrary  requirement  on  the  part  of 
God.  If  the  positions  taken  in  this  discussion  are  cor¬ 
rect,  the  doctrine  of  expiation  contains  a  metciphysique , 
and  is  defensible  at  the  bar  of  philosophic  reason. 

One  great  obstacle  to  the  reception  of  the  evangelical 
system  lies  in  the  fact,  that  very  many  are  of  opinion 
that  the  scripture  method  of  forgiving  sin  is  needlessly 
embarrassed  by  a  sacrificial  expiation.  “  Why  should 
not  God,”  they  ask,  “forgive  the  creature  of  his  foot¬ 
stool  in  the  same  manner  that  an  earthly  father  does  his 
child?  Why  does  he  not,  at  once,  and  without  any  of 
this  apparatus  of  atonement,  bid  the  erring  one  go  his 
way,  with  the  assurance  that  the  past  is  forgotten?  Is 
not  this  expiation,  even  though  made  by  the  Deity  him¬ 
self,  after  all,  a  hinderance  rather  than  an  encourage¬ 
ment  to  an  approach  to  the  eternal  throne?  Is  it  not, 
at  least,  something  that  is  not  strictly  necessary,  and 
might  have  been  dispensed  with?”  This  lurking  or 
open  doubt,  with  regard  to  the  rationality  and  intrinsic 
necessity  of  an  atonement  for  sin,  cuts  the  root  of  all 
evangelical  faith  in  a  large  class  of  men. 

Indeed,  it  may  be  a  question  whether  the  preacher  in 
Christian  lands  has  not  a  more  difficult  task  to  perform 
for  a  certain  class  of  minds,  in  reference  to  the  doctrine 
of  Christ  crucified,  than  the  missionary  in  pagan  lands 
has;  and  whether  Christian  theology  itself  would  not 
have  an  easier  labor  than  it  now  has,  to  vindicate  the 
ways  of  God  to  man,  in  the  respect  of  which  we  are 
speaking,  if  the  Old-Ethnic,  or  what  is  far  better,  the 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


on,i 
ov/tfc 

Old-Jewish  ideas  respecting  guilt  and  retribution  were 
more  current  than  they  are  in  a  certain  class  in  nominal 
Christendom.  Taking  a  portion  of  men  in  the  modern 
civilized  world  as  a  sample,  it  would  seem  as  if  the 
unregenerate  Christian  world  does  not  possess  such  a 
spontaneous  and  irrepressible  conviction  that  guilt  must 
be  punished,  as  did  the  old  unsophisticated  Pagan 
world*  The  system  of  bloody  sacrifices,  an  emphatic 
acknowledgment  of  this  great  truth,  was  almost  univer¬ 
sal  among  them  ;  and  the  doctrine  that  mere  sorrow  for 
transgression  is  a  sufficient  ground  for  its  forgiveness, 
had  little  force.  The  Grecian  Nemesis,  or  personifica¬ 
tion  of  vindicative  justice,  was  a  divinity  to  whom  even 
Jove  himself  was  subject.  The  ancient  religious  insti¬ 
tutions  and  ceremonials,  fanciful  and  irrational  as  they 
were  in  most  of  their  elements,  yet  distinctly  recognized, 
through  their  sacrificial  cultus,  the  amenability  of  man 
to  law,  and  his  culpability.  Add  to  this,  the  workings 
of  natural  conscience,  and  we  have,  even  in  the  midst 
of  polytheism,  quite  a  strong  influence  at  work  to  keep 
the  pagan  mind  healthy  and  sound  upon  the  relations 
of  guilt  to  justice.  Men  could  not  well  deny  the  need 


*  The  barbarians  of  Melita,  -when  they  saw  the  venomous  beast  hang¬ 
ing  upon  the  hand  of  Paul,  said  among  themselves  :  “  No  doubt  this  man 
is  a  murderer,  whom  though  he  hath  escaped  the  sea,  yet  vengeance  (A'uai) 
suff'ereth  not  to  live.”  Their  ethical  instinct  was  sound  and  healthy,  though 
their  knowledge  of  the  facts  in  the  case  was  inaccurate.  But  when,  in  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  upon  a  spot  where  the  edifices  and 
emblems  of  government  cast  their  solemn  shadows,  a  human  being,  in  the 
heat  and  fury  of  his  heart,  slays  his  foe  to  mutilation  in  the  illegal  redress 
of  his  own  wrongs,  and  the  public  conscience  is  found  to  be  so  debauched 
that  only  one  in  one  hundred  of  the  resident  population  condemns  the 
deed,  the  comparison  between  Christendom  and  Paganism  is  humiliating. 
Such  occurrences  illustrate  the  difference  between  private  revenge  and 
public  justice,  and  prove  that  the  only  security  which  society  has  against 
the  former,  is  in  the  rigid  and  impartial  execution  of  the  latter. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


305 


of  sin-expiation  before  whose  eyes  the  blood  of  the 
piacular  victim  was  constantly  smoking,  in  accordance 
with  a  custom  that  had  come  down  from  their  ances¬ 
tors,  and  which  fell  in  so  accordantly  with  the  workings 
of  a  remorseful  conscience. 

But  a  portion  of  the  modern  world  have  made  use 
of  Christianity  itself  to  undermine  the  very  foundations 
of  Christianity.  The  Christian  religion,  by  furnishing 
that  one  great  sacrifice  and  real  atonement,  to  which  all 
other  sacrifices  look  and  point,  has  of  course  abolished 
the  system  of  external  sacrifices,  and  now  that  class  of 
minds  who  live  under  its  outward  and  civilizing  influ¬ 
ences  without  appropriating  its  inward  and  spiritual 
blessings,  reject  the  legal  and  judicial  elements  which  it 
contains,  and  deny  the  necessity  of  satisfying  justice  in 
the  plan  of  redemption.  There  is  nothing  in  the  reli¬ 
gious  rites  and  customs  under  which  they  live  to  elicit 
the  sense  of  guilt ;  and  hence,  from  an  inadequate 
knowledge  of  their  own  consciences  and  a  defective 
apprehension  of  Christianity,  they  strenuously  combat 
that  fundamental  truth,  “  without  the  shedding  of  blood 
there  is  no  remission,”  upon  which  Christianity  itself  is 
founded,  and  in  reference  to  which  alone  it  has  any 
worth  or  preciousness  for  a  guilt-smitten  soul. 

The  same  tendency  to  underestimate  the  fact  of 
human  criminality,  and  the  value  of  the  piacular  pro¬ 
vision  for  it  in  the  gospel,  is  seen  also  in  the  individual. 
How  difficult  it  is  to  bring  the  person,  for  whose  spirit¬ 
ual  interests  we  are  anxious,  to  see  himself  in  the  light 
of  law  and  condemnation  !  How  we  ourselves  shrink 
from  the  clear,  solemn  assertion  of  his  culpability,  and 
turn  aside  to  enlarge  upon  the  unworthiness  or  the  un¬ 
happiness  of  his  sin!  When  we  make  the  attempt  to 
charge  home  guilt  upon  him,  how  lacking  we  are  in 


306 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


that  tender  solemnity,  and  earnest  truthfulness  of  tone, 
which  make  the  impression  !  And,  even  if  we  have 
succeeded  in  wakening  his  conscience  to  a  somewhat 
normal  action  in  this  respect,  how  swiftly  does  he  elude 
the  terrible  but  righteous  feeling,  which  alone  can  pre¬ 
pare  him  for  the  sprinkling  of  the  blood  of  Jesus! 

When  we  pass  up  into  the  Christian  experience,  we 
discover  the  same  fact  in  a  different  form  and  degree. 
How  difficult  does  the  believer  find  it  to  obtain  such  a 
clear  and  transparent  conception  of  his  own  guiltiness, 
that  the  atoning  work  of  his  Redeemer  becomes  all 
luminous  before  his  eyes,  and  he  knows  instantaneously 
that  he  needs  it,  and  that  it  is  all  he  needs!  Usually, 
this  crystal  clearness  of  vision  is  reserved  for  certain 
critical  moments  in  his  religious  history,  when  he  must 
have  it  or  die.  Usually  it  is  the  hour  of  affliction,  or 
sickness,  or  death,  that  affords  this  rare  and  unutterably 
tranquillizing  view  of  the  guilty  self  and  the  dying 
Lord.  “  We  have  the  blood  of  Christ,”  said  the  dying 
Schleiermacher,  as,  in  his  last  moments,  he  began  to 
count  up  the  grounds  of  his  confidence  on  the  brink  of 
the  invisible  world.  Here  was  a  mind  uncommonly 
contemplative  and  profound;  that  had  made  the  spirit¬ 
ual  world  its  home,  as  it  were,  for  many  long  years  of 
theological  study  and  reflection  ;  that,  in  its  tone  and 
temper,  seemed  to  be  prepared  to  pass  over  into  the 
supernatural  realm  without  any  misgivings  or  appre¬ 
hensions;  that  had  mused  long  and  speculated  subtly 
upon  the  nature  of  moral  evil ;  that  had  sounded  the 
depths  of  reason  and  revelation  with  no  short  plum¬ 
met-line, —  here  was  a  man  who,  now  that  death  had 
actually  come,  and  the  responsible  human  will  must 
now  encounter  Holy  Justice  face  to  face,  found  that 
nothing  but  the  blood ,  the  atonement ,  of  Jesus  Christ 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT.  307 

could  calm  the  perturbations  of  his  planet-like  spirit. 
The  errors  and  inadequate  statements  of  his  theological 
system,  which  cluster  mostly  about  this  very  doctrine 
of  expiation,  are  tacitly  renounced  in  the  implied  con¬ 
fession  of  guiltiness  and  need  of  atonement,  contained 
these  few  simple  words:  “We  have  the  blood  of 
Christ.” 

It  is  related  that  bishop  Butler,  in  his  last  days  draw¬ 
ing  nearer  to  that  dreacPtribunal  where  the  highest  and 
the  lowest  must  alike  stand  in  judgment,  trembled  in 
spirit,  and  turned  this  way  and  that  for  tranquillity  of 
conscience.  One  of  his  clergy,  among  other  texts, 
quoted  to  him  the  words  :  “  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 
cleanseth  from  all  sin.”  A  flush  of  peace  and  joy  passed, 
like  the  bland  west  wind,  through  his  fevered  con¬ 
science,  as  he  made  answer :  “  I  have  read  those  words 
a  thousand  times,  but  I  never  felt  their  meaning  as 
now.”  And  who  does  not  remember  that  the  final  hours 
of  the  remarkably  earnest,  but  too  legal,  life  of  the 
great  English  Moralist  were  lighted  up  with  a  peace 
that  he  had  never  been  able  to  attain  in  the  days  of  his 
health,  by  the  evangelism  of  a  humble  curate? 

Such  facts  and  phenomena  as  these,  evince  that  it  is 
difficult  for  man  to  know  sin  as  guilt,  and  thoroughly 
to  apprehend  Christ  as  a  Priest  and  a  Sacrifice.  But 
one  of  the  best  correctives  of  this  tendency  to  under¬ 
estimate  both  guilt  and  expiation,  is  found  in  the  clear 
perception  that  the  two  are  necessarily  related  to  each 
other,  and  that  consequently  the  death  of  the  Redeemer 
has  nothing  arbitrary  in  it.  When  one  is  convinced 
that  Christ  “ must  needs  have  suffered,”  he  is  relieved 
from  the  doubts  respecting  the  meaning  and  efficacy  of 
the  atonement,  and  surrenders  his  conscience  directly  to 
its  pacifying  influence  and  power.  He  that  doubteth  is 


308 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


damned,  in  this  respect  also.  The  least  shaking  of  be¬ 
lief  that  this  great  gospel  provision  is  absolutely  neces¬ 
sary,  if  sinners  are  to  be  saved  ;  the  faintest  querying 
whether  it  may  not,  in  the  nature  of  things,  have  been 
a  superfluity  ;  so  far  as  it  tends  at  all,  tends  to  dull  the 
edge  of  man’s  contrition,  and  destroy  the  keenness  of 
his  sense  of  the  Divine  pity. 

It  has  often  been  remarked,  that  the  Passion  of  the 
Redeemer  performs  two  functions.  It  not  merely  re¬ 
moves  the  sense  of  guilt,  but  it  also  elicits  it.  The 
experience  of  the  Moravian  missionaries  is  frequentlv 
cited  to  prove  that  a  contemplation  of  the  sufferings  and 
death  of  Christ  sometimes  accomplishes  what  the  naked 
exhibition  of  the  law  fails  to  accomplish,  in  bringing 
men  to  a  sense  of  their  sinfulness.  The  stern  com¬ 
mandment  had  been  applied  to  the  hardened  conscience 
of  the  savage,  and  iron  met  iron.  The  pity  of  a  dying, 
atoning  High  Priest  was  shown,  and  the  rock  gushed 
out  water.  And  such,  undoubtedly,  is  often  the  case  in 
the  history  of  conversions.  But  shall  we  not  find  in 
this  instance,  also,  that  the  force  and  energy  of  the  im¬ 
pression  made,  results  from  a  perception,  more  or  less 
clear,  that  this  death  of  the  Substitute  was  inexorably 
necessary ,  in  order  to  the  criminal’s  release  ?  The  ope¬ 
rations  of  the  human  mind  are  wonderfully  swift,  and 
difficult  to  follow  or  trace.  Though  the  Esquimaux 
passed  through  no  long  process  of  reasoning,  he  felt  in 
his  conscience  the  unavoidableness  of  that  mysterious 
Passion  of  that  mysterious  Person,  in  case  his  own 
wicked  soul  was  to  be  spared  the  just  inflictions  of  the 
future.  By  a  very  rapid  but  perfectly  legitimate  con¬ 
clusion,  he  inferred  the  magnitude  of  his  guilt  from  the 
greatness  and  necessity  of  the  expiation.  For  suppose 
the  lurking  query,  to  which  we  have  alluded,  had  sprung 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


309 


up  in  his  mind  just  at  this  moment,  and  instead  of  the 
felt  necessity  of  an  atoning  sacrifice,  the  faint  querying 
had  arisen  whether  his  sin  were  not  venial  without  the 
satisfaction  of  justice,  would  he  have  instantaneously 
melted  down  in  contrition  ?  So  long  as  men  are  pos¬ 
sessed  with  the  feeling  that  the  New  Testament  method 
of  salvation  is  an  abitrary  one,  containing  elements  and 
provisions  that  might  have  been  different,  or  that  are 
superfluous,  they  will  receive  little  or  no  moral  impres¬ 
sion  from  it.  But  when  they  see  plainly,  that  in  all  its 
parts  and  particles  it  refers  directly  to  what  is  ethical  in 
both  themselves  and  the  Eternal  Judge,  and  is  necessi¬ 
tated  by  the  best  portion  of  their  own  constitution,  and 
by  the  perfect  nature  of  the  Godhead,  they  will  then 
draw  a  very  quick  and  accurate  inference  with  respect 
to  the  intrinsic  nature  of  that  transgression  which  has 
introduced  such  a  dire  and  stark  necessity.  When  a 
man  realizes  that  the  great  and  eternal  God  cannot 
pardon  his  individual  sins  except  through  a  passion  that 
wrings  great  drops  of  blood  from  every  pore  of  incar¬ 
nate  Deity,  he  realizes  what  is  involved  in  the  trans¬ 
gression  of  moral  law. 

2,  A  second  obvious  inference  from  the  doctrine,  that 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ  is  a  satisfaction  for  both  the  Di¬ 
vine  and  the  human  nature,  is,  that  such  an  atonement 
is  thorough  and  complete.  It  leaves  nothing  unsatisfied, 
or  dissatisfied,  either  in  God’s  holy  nature  or  in  man’s 
moral  sense.  The  work  is  ample  and  reliable. 

This  is  a  feature  of  the  utmost  value  and  importance 
in  a  scheme  of  Redemption.  For  no  method  will  be 
put  to  a  more  fiery  trial,  ultimately,  than  the  gospel 
method  of  salvation.  It  undergoes  some  severe  tests 
here  in  time.  The  dying-bed  draped  with  the  recollec¬ 
tion  of  past  sins  and  transgressions,  the  pangs  of  re- 


310 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


morse  shooting  through  the  conscience,  and  the  fears 
for  the  future  undulating  through  the  whole  being, — 
all  this  solemn  experience  before  the  soul  shoots  the 
gulf  between  time  and  eternity,  calls  for  a  most  “  sover¬ 
eign  remedy.”  And  we  may  be  certain  that  the  disclos¬ 
ures  and  revelations  that  are  to  be  made  in  the  other 
world,  and  particularly  upon  the  day  of  judgment,  will 
subject  the  atoning  work  of  the  Redeemer  to  tests  and 
trials  such  as  no  other  work,  and  especially  no  “dead 
work”  of  a  moralist,  can  endure  for  an  instant.  The 
energy  of  justice,  and  the  energy  of  conscience,  and  the 
power  of  memory,  and  the  searchings  of  God  the  Holy 
Ghost,  will  at  that  bar  reach  their  height  and  combina¬ 
tion  ;  and  any  provision  that  shall  legitimately  counter¬ 
vail  that  energy,  and  enable  the  human  soul  to  stand 
tranquil  under  such  revelations, and  beneath  such  claims, 
will  be  infinite  and  omnipotent  indeed.  But  the  be¬ 
liever  need  never  fear  lest  the  work  of  the  Eternal 
Word,  who  was  made  flesh,  the  co-equal  Son  of  the 
Eternal  Father,  prove  inadequate  under  even  such 
crucial  tests.  He  needs  only  fear  lest  his  feeble,  waver¬ 
ing  faith  grasp  it  too  insecurely.  If  he  does  but  set  his 
feet  upon  it,  he  will  find  it  the  Rock  of  Ages.  All 
judicial  claims  are  cancelled,  because  the  oblation  to 
justice  is  an  infinite  one.  “There  is  no  condemnation 
to  them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus.”* 

For  we  have  seen  that  the  very  mercy  of  God,  in  the 
last  analysis,  consists  in  the  entire  satisfaction  of  God’s 
justice  by  God  himself,  for  the  helpless  criminal.  What 
method  of  Redemption  can  be  conceived  of,  more  per¬ 
fectly  sure  and  trustworthy  than  this  ?  “  What  com- 


*  Michael  Angelo,  that  loftiest  and  most  religious  of  artists,  gives  ex¬ 
pression,  in  the  following  sonnet,  to  this  natuial  shrinking  of  the  soul  in 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


311 


passion,”  says  Anselm,  “  can  equal  the  words  of  God 
the  Father  addressed  to  the  sinner  condemned  to  eter¬ 
nal  punishment,  and  having  no  means  of  redeeming 
himself:  ‘Take  my  only-begotten  Son,  and  make  him 
an  offering  for  thyself or  the  words  of  the  Son  :  ‘  Take 
me  and  ransom  thy  soul  ?’  For  this  is  what  both  say, 
when  they  invite  and  draw  us  to  faith  in  the  gospel. 
And  can  anything  be  more  just  than  for  God  to  remit 
all  debt,  when  in  this  way  he  receives  a  satisfaction 
greater  than  all  the  debt,  provided  only  it  be  offered 
with  the  right  feeling?”*  “  The  pardon  of  sin,”  says  an 
old  English  divine,  “  is  not  merely  an  act  of  mercy,  but 
also  an  act  of  justice  in  God.”  By  this  he  means  that 
mercy  and  justice  are  concurrent  in  the  gospel  method 
of  Redemption,  —  mercy  satisfies  justice,  and  justice 
acknowledges  the  satisfaction.  “  What  abundant  cause 
of  comfort,”  he  adds,  “  may  this  be  to  all  believers,  that 
God’s  justice  as  well  as  his  m£rcy  shall  acquit  them! 
that  that  attribute  of  God,  at  the  apprehension  of  which 
they  are  wont  to  tremble,  should  interpose  on  their 


view  of  the  fiery  judicial  trial  that  awaits  it,  and  also  to  the  cheerful  reas¬ 
surance  induced  by  the  recollection  of  Christ’s  Passion  : 

“Despite  thy  promises,  O  Lord,  ’t  would  seem 
Too  much  to  hope  that  even  love  like  Thine 
Can  overlook  my  countless  wanderings: 

And  yet  Thy  blood  helps  us  to  comprehend 
That  if  Thy  pangs  for  us  were  measureless, 

No  less  beyond  all  measure  is  thy  grace.” 

Harford's  Life  of  Angelo,  II.  166. 

How  immensely  deeper  is  the  intuition  of  divine  things,  how  immensely 
clearer  is  the  insight  into  the  nature  and  mutual  relations  of  God  and  man, 
which  is  indicated  by  such  a  sonnet  from  the  soul  of  him  who  poised  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter’s,  and  crowded  the  frescoes  of  the  Sistine  chapel  with 
grandeur  and  beauty,  than  that  of  the  modern  brood  of  dilettanti,  as  ex¬ 
pressed  in  much  of  the  current  literature,  and  the  current  art. 

*  Cur  Dens  homo  ?  II.  20. 


312 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


behalf,  and  plead  for  them  !  And  yet  through  the  all- 
sufficient  expiation  and  atonement  that  Christ  hath 
made  for  our  sins,  this  mystery  is  effected,  and  justice 
itself  brought  over,  from  being  a  formidable  adversary, 
to  be  our  party,  and  to  plead  for  us.  Therefore  the 
apostle  tells  us  that  God  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive 
us  our  sins.”* 

Consonant  with  this  is  the  well-known  language  of 
the  elder  Edwards  :  “  It  is,”  he  says,  “  so  ordered  now, 
that  the  glory  of  the  attribute  of  Divine  justice  requires 
the  salvation  of  those  that  believe.  The  justice  of  God 
that  [irrespective  of  the  atonement]  required  man’s 
damnation,  and  seemed  inconsistent  with  his  salvation, 
now  [having  respect  to  the  atonement]  as  much  re¬ 
quires  the  salvation  of  those  that  believe  in  Christ  [and 
thereby  appropriate  the  atonement],  as  ever  before  it 
required  their  damnation.  Salvation  is  an  absolute 
debt  to  the  believer  from  God,  so  that  he  may  in  jus¬ 
tice  demand  it  on  the  ground  of  what  his  Surety  has 
done.”f  Do  these  last  words  sound  rash  ?  But  scruti- 


*  Bp.  Ezekiel  Hopkins’s  Exposition  of  the  Lord’s  Prayer.  Works,  I.  124. 

t  Works,  IV.  150.  New  York  Ed.  For  the  soteriology  of  this  eminent 
writer,  see  his  discourses  on  “  Justification  by  Faith  alone,”  “The  wisdom 
of  God  displayed  in  the  way  of  salvation,”  and  “  Satisfaction  for  sin.” 
Among  his  positions  are  the  following  :  Justification  frees  from  all  obliga¬ 
tion  to  eternal  punishment  (IV.  78,  104,  150).  Christ’s  suffering  is  equiv¬ 
alent  to  the  eternal  suffering  of  a  finite  creature  (IV.  101,  551).  Christ 
experienced  the  wrath  of  God  (IV.  182,  195).  God’s  wrath  is  appeased  by 
the  atonement  (IV.  142).  God  cannot  accept  an  atonement  that  falls  short 
of  the  full  claims  of  justice  (IV.  94).  The  voluntary  substitute  is,  in  this 
capacity,  under  obligation  to  suffer  the  punishment  due  to  the  sinner  (IV. 
96,  137).  Justice  does  not  abate  any  of  its  claims  in  the  plan  of  redemp¬ 
tion  (IV.  140,  552).  Christ  satisfied  “revenging,”  or  distributive,  justice 
(IV.  150,  189). 

Samuel  Hopkins  is  equally  explicit  in  maintaining  the  theory  of  a  strict 
satisfaction,  as  is  evident  from  the  following:  “One  important  and  neces¬ 
sary  part  of  the  work  of  the  Kedeemer  of  man  was  to  make  atonement 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT.  31? 

nize  them.  “  Salvation  is  an  absolute  debt  to  the 
believer  on  the  ground  of  what  his  Surety  has  done;”  not 
on  the  ground,  therefore,  of  anything  that  the  believer 
has  done.  It  is  merely  saying,  that  the  soul  which  feels 
its  own  desert  of  damnation,  may  plead  the  merit  of 
Christ  with  entire  confidence  that  it  cancels  all  legal 
claims,  and  that  there  is  nothing  outstanding  and  un- 


for  their  sins,  by  suffering  in  his  own  person  the  penalty  or  curse  of  the  law, 
under  which,  by  transgression,  they  had  fallen  ....  The  sufferings  of 
Christ  were,  therefore,  for  sin,  and  consequently  must  be  the  evil  which  sin 
deserves,  and  that  to  which  the  sinner  was  exposed,  and  which  he  must  have 
suffered  had  not  Christ  suffered  it  in  his  stead,  or  that  which  is  equivalent. 

....  The  Mediator  did  not  suffer  precisely  the  same  kind  of  pain,  in  all 
respects,  which  the  sinner  suffers  when  the  curse  is  executed  on  him.  He  did 
not  suffer  that  particular  kind  of  pain  which  is  the  necessary  attendant,  or 
natural  consequence,  of  being  a  sinner,  and  which  none  but  the  sinner  can 
suffer.  But  this  is  only  a  circumstance  of  the  punishment  of  sin,  and  not 
of  the  essence  of  it.  The  ivhole  penalty  of  the  law  may  be  suffered,  and  the  evil 
suffered  may  be  as  much,  and  as  great,  without  suffering  that  particular  sort  of 
pain.  Therefore,  Christ,  though  without  sin,  might  suffer  the  whole  penalty, 
—  that  is,  as  much  and  as  great  evil  as  the  law  denounces  against  transgres¬ 
sion.  The  evil  which  sinners  may  suffer,  on  whom  the  penalty  of  the  law 
is  inflicted,  may,  and  doubtless  will,  differ  in  many  circumstances,  and  not 
be  precisely  of  the  same  kind  in  all  respects,  and  yet  each  one  of  them 
suffer  the  penalty  of  the  same  law  ....  The  evil  of  the  sufferings  of 
Christ,  being,  in  the  magnitude  of  it,  commensurate  with  the  dignity  and 
woi’th  of  his  person,  is  equal  to,  is  as  great  as,  the  evil  which  is  threatened  to 
the  transgressors  of  the  law,  and  as  great  as  the  sinner  deserves  ;  yea,  it  is  as 
great  as  the  endless  sufferings  of  mankind  ....  The  curse  of  the  law 
consists  in  the  infinite  evil,  pain,  and  suffering  which  sin  deserves.  He  who 
suffers  this  for  sin,  suffers  the  curse  of  the  law,  is  accursed,  or  made  a 
curse.  Jesus  Christ  suffered  this  curse,  the  infinite  natural  evil  in  ivhich  the 
penalty  or  the  curse  of  the  laiv  consists ;  and  in  suffering  it  for  sinners,  and  in 
their  stead,  was  made  a  curse.  This  might  be  consistent  with  his  having 
the  approbation  of  the  Father,  and  his  favor  and  love  to  the  highest  degree. 
The  displeasure  of  God,  which  was  the  cause  of  his  sufferings  when  he 
voluntarily  took,  and  stood  in,  the  place  of  sinners,  was  displeasure  with 
sin  and  the  sinner,  and  not  with  him  who  suffered,  the  state  of  the  case  be¬ 
ing  fully  understood  by  the  spectators  ....  It  is  evident  from  scripture, 
that  the  law  of  God  does  admit  of  a  substitute,  both  in  obeying  the  precepts, 
and  suffering  the  penalty  of  it.”  —  Hopkins’s  Works,  I.  pp.  321 — 341.  Doc¬ 
trinal  Tract  Society’s  Ed. 


314 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


covered  by  that  Divine  atonement  upon  which  it  relies 
for  justification.  It  is  simply  asserting  that  God  incar¬ 
nate,  the  redeeming  Deitv,  can  demand,  upon  principles 
of  justice,  the  release  of  a  soul  that  trusts  solely  in  bis 
atoning  death  ;  because  by  that  death  he  has  completely, 
and  not  partially,  satisfied  eternal  justice  for  it,  and  in 
its  stead.*  They  are  the  bold  words  of  a  very  cautious 

*  It  is  needless  to  remark,  that  Edwards  does  not  concede  that  the  mere 
atonement  itself  gives  any  and  every  man  a  claim  upon  God  for  the  belief  ts 
of  the  atonement ,  —  as  is  sometimes  argued  by  the  advocates  of  universal 
salvation.  God  is  under  no  obligation  to  make  an  atonement  for  the  sin  of 
the  world  ;  and,  after  he  has  made  one ,  he  is  at  perfect  liberty  to  apph /  it  to 
u-hom  he  pleases,  or  not  to  apply  it  at  all.  The  atonement  is  his,  and  not 
man’s,  and  he  may  do  what  he  will  with  his  own.  Hence,  according  to 
Edwards,  two  distinct  acts  of  sovereignty  on  the  part  of  God  are  necessary 
in  order  to  a  soul’s  salvation.  The  providing  of  an  atonement  in  the  first 
place,  is  a  sovereign  act ;  and  then  the  application,  or  giving  over,  of  the 
atonement,  when  provided,  to  any  particular  elected  sinner,  is  a  second  act 
of  sovereignty.  The  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ  constitute  the  atone¬ 
ment  ;  and  even  if  not  a  single  soul  should  appropriate  it  by  the  act  of  faith, 
it  would  be  the  same  expiatory  oblation  still,  though  unapplied.  Hence, 
the  second  of  these  sovereign  acts  is  as  necessary  as  the  first,  in  order  to 
salvation.  But  when  both  of  these  acts  of  sovereignty  have  taken  place, — 
when  the  atonement  has  been  made,  and  has  actually  been  given  over  to 
and  accepted  by  an  individual,  —  then,  says  Edwards,  it  is  a  matter  of  strict 
justice  that  the  penal  claims  of  the  law  be  not  exacted  from  the  believer, 
because  this  would  be  to  exact  them  twice ;  once  from  Christ,  and  once 
from  one  to  whom,  by  the  supposition,  Christ’s  satisfaction  has  actually 
been  made  over  by  a  sovereign  act  of  God.  Eor  God  to  do  this,  would  be 
to  pour  contempt  upon  his  own  atonement.  It  would  be  a  confession  that 
his  own  provision  is  insufficient  to  satbfy  the  claims  of  law,  and  needs  to  be 
supplemented  by  an  additional  infliction  upon  the  believer.  It  would  be 
an  acknowledgment  that  the  atonement,  when  it  comes  to  be  actually  tested 
in  an  individual  instance,  fails  to  satisfy  the  claims  of  justice,  and  therefore 
is  an  entire  failure.  The  sum  of  money  which  was  given  to  the  poor 
debtor,  with  the  expectation  that  it  was  large  enough  completely  to  liqui¬ 
date  his  debt,  is  found  to  fall  short,  and  leaves  him  still  in  the  debtor’s 
prison,  from  which  he  cannot  come  out  “until  he  has  paid  the  uttermost 
farthing.” 

That  this  is  a  correct  representation  of  the  views  of  Edwards  is  evident 
from  the  following  answer  which  he  gives  to  the  question  :  What  does 
God’s  sovereignty  in  the  salvation  of  man  imply  ?  —  “  God’s  sovereignty 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


315 


and  accurate  thinker  ;  but  are  they  any  bolder  than  that 
challenging  jubilant  shout  of  Sr.  Paul:  “Who  is  he 
that  conderrieth  ?  It  is  Christ  that  died.”  As  if,  fling¬ 
ing  his  voice  out  into  all  worlds,  and  all  universes,  he 
asked  :  “  What  claims  are  those  which  the  blood  of  the 
Eternal  Son  of  God  has  not  been  able  to  satisfy  ?  Is  the 
atonement  of  the  great  God  Himself  not  equal  to  the 
demands  of  his  law  ?  Is  the  Deity  feebler  upon  the  side 
of  his  expiation,  than  upon  the  side  of  his  retribution  ?  ” 
It  is  a  false  humility,  and  not  unmingled  with  a  legal 
spirit,  that  would  prevent  the  believer  from  joining  in 
these  bold  and  confident  statements  respecting  the  am¬ 
plitude  and  completeness  of  the  work  of  his  atoning 
Lord  and  God.  He  need  be  under  no  concern  lest  he 
underestimate  the  attribute  of  justice,  if  he  make  this 
hearty  and  salient  evangelical  feeling  his  own.  He  dis¬ 
parages  no  attribute  of  God,  when  he  magnifies  and 
makes  his  boast  in  the  atonement  of  God.  Christ  was 
equal  to  all  he  undertook  ;  and  he  undertook  to  satisfy 
the  claims  of  the  Divine  law  for  the  sin  of  the  world, 
down  to  the  least  jot  and  tittle  ;  to  pay  the  immense  debt 

in  the  salvation  of  men  implies  that  God  can  either  bestow  salvation  on  any 
of  the  children  of  men,  or  refuse  it,  without  any  prejudice  to  the  glory  of 
any  of  his  attributes,  except  where  he  has  been  pleased  to  declare  that  he  will  or 
will  not  bestow  it.  It  cannot  be  said  absolutely,  as  the  case  now  stands,  that 
God  can,  without  any  prejudice  to  the  honor  of  any  of  his  attributes,  bestow 
salvation  on  any  of  the  children  of  men,  or  refuse  it,  because  concerning 
some,  God  has  been  pleased  to  declare  either  that  he  will  or  that  he  will  not 
bestow  salvation  on  them ;  and  thus  to  bind  himself  by  his  own  promise. 
And  concerning  some  he  has  been  pleased  to  declare  that  he  never  will  be¬ 
stow  salvation  upon  them ;  viz.,  those  who  have  committed  the  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost.  Hence,  as  the  case  now  stands,  he  is  obliged  ;  he  cannot 
bestow  salvation  in  one  case,  or  refuse  it  in  the  other,  without  prejudice  to 
the  honor  of  his  truth.  But  God  exercised  his  sovereignty  in  making  these 
declarations.  God  was  not  obliged  to  promise  that  he  would  save  all  who 
believe  in  Christ ;  nor  was  he  obliged  to  declare  that  he  who  committed  the 
sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost  should  never  be  forgiven.  But  it  pleased  him  so 
to  declare.”  —  Edwards's  Works,  IV.  530.  N.  Y.  Ed. 


316 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


to  the  uttermost  farthing.  “  Think  not,”  he  says,  “  that 
I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets.  I  am 
not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil.  For  verily  I  say 
unto  you,  Till  heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one 
tittle  shall  in  no  wise  pass  from  the  law  till  all  be  ful¬ 
filled.”  And  the  incarnate  Deity  did  what  he  under¬ 
took.  He  had  a  view  of  the  extent  and  spirituality  of 
law,  and  of  the  demerit  of  sin,  such  as  no  finite  mind 
is  capable  of  entertaining,  and  he  knew  whereof  he 
affirmed  when,  at  the  close  of  his  life  of  sorrow  and  his 
death  of  passion  and  agony,  he  bowed  his  head  and 
gave  up  the  ghost,  with  the  words,  significant  beyond  all 
conception  :  “  It  is  finished,  —  the  oblation  is  complete.” 
Jesus  Christ,  the  God-Man,  in  the  garden  of  Gethsem- 
ane  and  on  the  middle  cross  of  Calvary,  had  a  con¬ 
ception  of  the  rigor  of  justice  and  the  exaction  of  law, 
such  as  no  human  or  angelic  mind  can  ever  have  in 
equal  degree  ;  and  the  believer  may  be  certain  that  when 
He  invites  him  to  rest  his  complete  justification,  and 
the  entire  satisfaction  of  all  judicial  claims,  before  that 
law,  upon  what  He  has  wrought  in  reference  to  it,  he  is 
not  invited  to  a  procedure  that  will  be  a  disparagement, 
or  dishonor,  either  to  law  or  to  justice. 

Man  is  not  straitened  in  the  atoning  work  of  incar¬ 
nate  Deity.  He  is  straitened  in  his  own  blind  and  un- 

J 

believing  soul.  He  only  needs  to  take  a  profound  view 

of  justice,  a  profound  view  of  sin,  and  a  profound  view 

of  God’s  atonement  for  it,  to  come  out  into  a  region  of 

peace,  liberty,  and  joy  unspeakable.  Feeble  views  upon 

any  one  of  these  subjects  debilitate  his  Christianity. 

He  should  distinctly  see  how  sacred  is  the  nature  of 

* 

justice,  and  how  indefeasible  are  its  claims.  He  should 
distinctly  feel  the  full  impression  and  energy  of  this 
attribute.  Then  he  should  as  distinctly  see  how  com- 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ATONEMENT. 


317 


plete  and  perfect  is  the  liquidation  of  these  holy  claims, 
by  the  death  of  the  incarnate  Son  of  God, — that  au¬ 
gust  Personage  denominated  by  the  prophet  “the 
"Wonderful,  the  Counsellor,  the  Mighty  God,  the  Ever¬ 
lasting  Father,  the  Prince  of  Peace.” 

That  very  interesting  mystic  of  the  Middle  Ages-, 
Henry  Von  Suso,  enlarging  in  his  poetic  manner  upon 
the  compassion  of  God  towards  a  sinful  world,  tells  us 
that  the  “  blood  of  Christ  is  full  of  love  and  red  as  a 
rose.”*  This  roseate  conception  of  the  atonement  is 
not  the  one  that  will  meet  the  necessities  of  man’s  con¬ 
science,  in  the  solemn  hour  of  his  mental  anguish  and 
his  moral  fear.  There  is  love  unutterable  in  that  blood, 
but  it  was  wrung  from  a  heart  to  which  all  merely  sen¬ 
timental  affection  was  as  alien  as  it  is  to  the  vengeance 
of  eternal  fire.  He  only  can  appreciate  and  understand 
that  love  of  principle,  that  love  of  self-immolation,  who 
sympathizes  thoroughly  with  that  regard  for  the  holiness 
and  justice  of  God,  united  with  compassion  for  lost 
souls,  that  led  the  Redeemer  to  undertake  the  full  expia¬ 
tion  of  human  guilt. 

Whoever  is  granted  this  clear  crystalline  vision  of  the 
atonement,  will  die  in  peace,  and  pass  through  all  the 
unknown  transport  and  terror  of  the  day  of  doom  with 
serenity  and  joy.  It  ought  to  be  the  toil  and  study  of 
the  believer  to  render  his  conceptions  of  the  work  of 
Christ  more  vivid,  simple,  and  vital.  For  whatever  may 
be  the  extent  of  his  religious  knowledge  in  other  direc¬ 
tions  ;  whatever  may  be  the  worth  of  his  religious  expe¬ 
rience  in  other  phases  ;  there  is  no  knowledge  and  no 
experience  that  will  stand  him  in  such  stead,  in  those 
moments  that  try  the  soul,  as  the  experience  of  the  pure 
sense  of  guilt  quenched  by  the  pure  blood  of  Christ. 


*  “  Minnerichen,  rosenfarbenen  Blute.” 


SYMBOLS  AKD  COY GBEG ATION ALISM  * 


The  constitution  of  the  Congregational  Library  Associa¬ 
tion  proclaims  that  it  is  the  object  of  this  society  to  estab¬ 
lish  a  material  centre  for  the  denomination,  about  which  it 
shall  collect  its  scattered  elements,  and  from  which  it  shall 
radiate  its  forces.  It  is  its  design,  in  the  language  of  its 
statutes,  “  to  found  and  perpetuate  a  library  of  books, 
pamphlets,  and  manuscripts,  and  a  collection  of  portraits,” 
and  to  lay  up  in  its  archives  u  whatever  else  shall  serve  to 
illustrate  Puritan  history,  and  promote  the  general  inter¬ 
ests  of  Congregationalism.”  “  It  shall  also  be  an  object 
of  the  Association,”  says  the  constitution,  u  to  secure  the 
erection  of  a  suitable  building  for  its  library,  its  meetings, 
and  the  general  purposes  of  the  body.”  Interpreting 
these  articles  and  statutes  in  a  broad  and  enterprising 
spirit,  we  find  in  them  a  desire  to  combine  and  unify  the 
somewhat  diffused  characteristics  of  the  Congregational 
denomination,  by  furnishing  it  a  visible  centre.  This 
species  of  centre,  and  this  sort  of  consolidation,  though 
not  of  the  highest  order,  though  external  in  its  instrumen- 
talities,  and  external  in  many  of  its  results,  is  nevertheless 
of  great  importance  in  the  history  of  any  organization. 
The  influence  of  the  national  temple,  the  common  visible 

*  A  discourse  before  the  Congregational  Library  Association,  May  25r 
1853. 


320 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


home  and  resort  of  all  the  tribes,  upon  the  Jewish  church 
and  state,  is  well  known  ;  and  no  external  event,  perhaps 
no  event,  contributed  more  to  the  downfall  of  the  Old 
economy,  and  the  Jewish  cultus,  and  thereby  to  the  prog¬ 
ress  and  triumph  of  the  new  dispensation  with  its  simpler 
and  more  spiritual  worship,  than  did  the  siege  of  Jerusa¬ 
lem,  and  the  destruction  of  the  old  ancestral  temple. 
That  building  of  the  pagan  temples  which  began  in 
Greece,  immediately  after  the  Persian  war  was  brought  to 
a  glorious  close,  did  more  than  even  that  war  itself  to 
bring  the  various  Grecian  tribes  into  something  akin  to 
unity  ;  and  that  so-called  Sacred  War  which  was  signalized 
by  the  robbing  of  Delphi,  and  the  scattering  of  its  treas¬ 
ures,  was  at  once  the  cause  and  the  effect  of  the  decline 
and  destruction  of  Grecian  patriotism,  and  Grecian  unity. 
Mediaeval  Catholicism  embodied  its  ideas,  and  centralized 
its  forces,  in  the  great  Gothic  cathedrals.  That  outburst 
of  architecture  in  the  thirteenth  century,  when  Pheims 
and  Rouen,  Paris  and  Cologne,  shot  up  their  spires,  and 
threw  out  their  flying  buttresses,  with  a  suddenness  and 
energy  that  looks  like  magic — that  majestic  series  of 
material  centres  for  the  Papal  church  did  much  to 
strengthen  it  in  its  corruption,  and  to  postpone  the  Refor¬ 
mation.* 

The  power  and  influence,  then,  of  a  centripetal  point, 
even  though  it  relate  to  externals,  is  not  to  be  despised.  It 

*  “  The  13th  century  as  a  building’  epoch  is  perhaps  the  most  brilliant 
in  the  whole  histoiy  of  architecture.  Not  even  the  great  Pharaonic  era 
in  Egypt,  the  age  of  Pericles  in  Greece,  nor  the  great  period  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  will  bear  comparison  with  the  13th  century  in  Europe, 
whether  we  look  at  the  extent  of  the  buildings  executed,  their  wonder¬ 
ful  variety  and  constructive  elegance,  the  daring  imagination  that  con¬ 
ceived  them,  or  the  power  of  poetry  and  of  lofty  religious  feeling  that 
is  expressed  in  every  feature  and  every  part  of  them.  ” — Eergusson’s 
Handbook  of  Architecture,  Part  II. ,  Book  III. ,  c.  9. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


321 


is  indeed  true  that  neither  the  library,  nor  the  museum, 
neither  the  collection,  nor  the  edifice  in  which  the  collection 
is  garnered  up,  can  be  a  substitute  for  the  living  spirit  of 
learning  in  the  mind  of  the  individual  scholar  ;  and  neither 
can  the  temple,  nor  the  cathedral,  nor  any  of  the  mechanism 
of  an  ecclesiastical  denomination,  be  regarded  of  equal 
importance  with  the  animating  principle  of  piety  in 
the  hearts  of  church  members.  And  yet  neither  science 

c J 

nor  religion,  neither  the  state  nor  the  church,  can  wholly 
neglect  these  outward  instruments  of  organization  and 
union,  without  somewhat  scattering  their  elements  of 
power,  and  wasting  their  force. 

Are  we  not  then  summoned  by  this  “  Library  Associa¬ 
tion  ”  to  consider  the  need  of  more  centripetal  force  in 
Congregationalism,  in  order  to  its  greater  efficiency  as  an 
ecclesiastical  denomination  \  The  Congregational  edifice, 
the  library,  and  the  portrait  gallery,  imply  that  we  require 
an  ecclesiastical  home,  and  are  emblematic  of  the  truth 
that  the  denomination  needs  to  control  its  tendencies  to 
vagueness,  and  diffusion,  and  to  render  its  distinguishing 
characteristics  more  intense  bv  concentration.  But  this 
cannot  be  done  bv  merely  erecting  a  building,  or  collect- 
ing  a  library  and  portraits.  These  are  but  the  secondary, 
though,  as  we  have  remarked,  the  necessary  instrumen- 
tali  ties.  Our  unity,  and  our  consolidation,  as  one  of  the 

j  j 

legitimate  churches  of  Christ  in  the  world,  must  ulti- 
mately  proceed  from  a  deeper  and  stronger  force  than 
anything  visible  and  material.  We  have  not  been  born 
of  flesh  and  blood.  We  have  been  begotten  of  the  will 
of  God,  with  the  word  of  truth ,  that  we  should  be  a  kind 
of  first  fruits  of  his  creatures.  Our  true  growth,  and  our 
true  strength,  must  lie  in  the  line  of  our  origin  and  birth. 
The  ultimate  organizing  and  centralizing  influence,  there¬ 
fore,  upon  which  we  must  place  our  main  reliance  as  a 
14* 


322 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


religious  denomination,  is  the  doctrine ,  the  truth  of  God 
This  is  one  and  homogeneous,  and  consequently  unities 
and  harmonizes  all  that  comes  under  its  fair  and  full  influ¬ 
ence.  But  this  supposes  that  eye  sees  to  eye ;  and  that 
there  is  a  common  doctrinal  faith,  and  a  common  doctrinal 
creed,  for  the  denomination. 

Let  us,  then,  consider  the  necessity  that  exists  in  Con¬ 
gregationalism  for  a  stronger  symbolical  feeling ,  and  a 
bolder  confidence  in  creed- statements,  in  order  to  its  high¬ 
est  efiiciency  as  a  Christian  denomination . 

Before  proceeding  to  the  discussion  of  this  theme,  we 
will  cast  a  swift  glance  at  the  ancestral  feeling  and  ten- 
dency  on  this  subject.  What  was  the  attitude  of  the 
fathers  and  founders  of  Congregationalism  towards  the 
old  historical  theology  that  had  preceded  them,  and  par¬ 
ticularly  towards  the  Symbols  that  were  then  in  existence  ? 
The  answer  to  this  question  will  require  us  to  notice, 
very  briefly,  the  theological  position  of  the  leading  minds 
in  the  formative  periods  of  Congregationalism,  and  the 
particular  public  action  of  the  denomination  itself. 

It  is  a  fact  which  will  not  be  disputed,  that  the  master 
spirits  among  the  English  Independents  of  the  Cromwel¬ 
lian  period  were  earnest  and  strong  defenders,  not  merely 
of  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  but  of  that  particu¬ 
lar  shaping  of  them  which  is  found  in  the  creeds  of  the 
Calvinistic  division  of  the  Protestants.  The  English 
church  previous  to  the  days  of  Laud,  it  is  well  known, 
sympathized  heartily  with  the  theologians  of  Zurich  and 
Geneva,  and  when  that  large  and  learned  bodv  of  divines 
whose  consciences  compelled  them  to  dissent  from  the 
increasing  ecclesiasticism  of  the  state  establishment  came 
out  from  it,  they  brought  with  them  the  very  same  dog¬ 
matic  system  which  had  been  embodied  in  the  42  articles 
of  Edward  Sixth,  had  been  compressed  into  the  39  arti- 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


323 


cles  of  Elizabeth,  and  had  been  maintained  by  prelates 
like  Whitgift,  and  Cranmer,  and  Usher,  as  the  faith  once 
delivered  to  the  saints.  As  a  natural  consequence,  the 
non-conforming  theologians  in  England,  however  much 
they  differed  from  one  another,  and  from  the  old  national 
church,  upon  secondary  subjects,  were  characterized  by  an 
earnest  and  intelligent  zeal  for  the  old  English,  which 
was  the  old  Calvinistic,  faith  and  creed. 

The  Independents  were  not  second  to  any  in  this  feeling. 
Thomas  Goodwin  and  John  Owen,  says  Anthony  Wood, 
“  were  the  two  Atlases  and  Patriarchs  of  Independency.”* 
These  two  minds  are  the  true  representatives  of  the 
English  Congregationalism  of  the  17th  century,  and  they 
did  more  than  any  others  to  determine  its  type  and  char¬ 
acter,  both  in  doctrine  and  practice.  Their  theological 
position  is  as  well  known  as  that  of  Calvin  himself. 
These  minds  were,  also,  of  that  exact  and  scientific  order 
which  requires  for  its  own  satisfaction  the  most  unambig¬ 
uous  and  self-consistent  statement  of  religious  truth.  The 
treatises  of  the  individual  divine  are,  commonly,  not  so 
carefully  worded  as  the  articles  of  the  council  of  divines  ; 
from  the  same  cause  that  the  best  reasoned  political  dis¬ 
quisitions  are  not  so  precise  in  their  statements  as  the 
technical  phraseology  of  the  political  convention,  or  the 
political  treaty.  Yet  even  the  practical  treatises  of  Owen 
and  Goodwin  bear  a  much  stronger  resemblance  than  is 
common,  or  commonly  practicable,  in  flowing  discourse, 
to  the  concise  and  guarded  enunciations  of  the  council. 
The  very  structure  of  their  sermons,  and  the  very  style 
of  their  discourses,  evinces  that  these  leading  Independ¬ 
ents  were  of  their  own  free-will,  and  with  their  own  clear 
eye,  following  on  in  that  strait  and  narrow  way  of  dogma 


*  Neale,  II.,  291.  Harper’s  Ed. 


324 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


which  is  the  intellectual  parallel  to  the  strait  and  narrow 
way  of  life. 

%J 

The  Independents  of  England  in  the  Cromwellian  period 
had  no  quarrel  with  the  Presbyterians  in  respect  to  mat¬ 
ters  of  doctrine ;  even  as  the  English  Presbyterians  had 
no  quarrel  with  the  low-church  Episcopalians  of  this 
period,  so  far  as  relates  to  points  of  faith.  Owen  heartily 
adopted  the  Westminster  Confession,  and  Twisse  and  the 
whole  Westminster  Assembly  would  have  been  content 
with  the  doctrinal  part  of  the  39  articles.  The  Calvinists 
of  England  within  the  Establishment,  and  the  Calvinists 
of  England  without  the  Establishment,  were  both  alike 
opposed  to  Arminianism,  and  were  equally  earnest  for 
those  well  discriminated  creed-statements  which  mark  off 
the  faith  of  Geneva  from  that  of  Leyden. 

The  English  Independents  differed  from  the  English 
Presbyterians  solely  upon  the  subject  of  ecclesiastical 
polity.  And  when,  therefore,  they  appointed  their  com¬ 
mittee  at  the  Savoy  in  1658  (exactly  two  hundred  years 
ago)  to  draw  up  a  confession  of  faith,  that  should  organize 
the  denomination,  and  hold  it  together,  they  instructed 
them  to  keep  close  to  the  Westminster  upon  doctrinal 
points,  but  to  engraft  the  Congregational  form  of  polity 
upon  the  old  historical  Calvinism  that  had  come  down  to 
the  Presbyterians  themselves  through  Dort  and  Geneva.* 

These  well-known  and  familiar  facts  are  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  founders  and  fathers  of  English  Congrega- 
tionalism  were  imbued  with  reverence  for  the  ancient 
symbolism  of  the  Protestant  church,  and  felt  that  their 
small  and  feeble  denomination,  which  was  then  struggling 
for  existence  amidst  the  convulsions  of  churches  and 
states,  must  be  held  together,  and  made  strong,  by  the 


*  Neale,  II.,  178.  Harper's  Ed. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


325 


strength  of  God’s  truth  stated  unequivocally  and  exhaus¬ 
tively  in  a  creed-form. 

The  Con  operational  churches  of  Hew  England  were 

O  CD  CD 

animated  by  the  same  feeling.  Their  leading  minds,  also, 
were  of  the  same  stamp,  and  theological  affinities,  with 
John  Owen  and  John  Howe.  The  pastor  of  the  Plymouth 
pilgrims  during  their  sojourn  in  Holland,  the  one  who 
commended  them  to  the  protection  of  God  when  they  em¬ 
barked  upon  that  hazardous  voyage,  and  who  told  them 
that  the  Bible  was  not  vet  exhausted,  and  that  “  more 
light,”  he  believed,  was  still  to  “  break  forth  ”  from  it, 
was  John  Robinson.  But  John  Robinson  believed  in  no 
liodit  from  the  Bible  that  did  not  shine  more  and  more 

O 

upon  the  path  of  the  Calvinist.  John  Robinson  was  a 
very  vigilant  observer  of  the  most  subtle  and  perplexing 
controversy  in  modern  doctrinal  history,  that  between 
Calvinism  and  Arminianism,  and  took  a  part  in  it.  Brad¬ 
ford  informs  us  that  the  pastor  of  the  Pilgrims  was  u  terri¬ 
ble  to  the  Arminians,”  *  and  that  too,  it  should  be  noticed, 

*  “  In  these  times,  also,  were  the  great  troubles  raised  by  the  Armi¬ 
nians  ;  who,  as  they  greatly  molested  the  whole  State,  so  this  city  in 
particular,  in  which  was  the  chief  university  ;  so  as  there  were  daily 
and  hot  disputes  in  the  schools  thereabouts  And  as  the  students  and 
other  learned,  were  divided  in  their  opinions  herein,  so  were  the  two 
professors  or  divinity  readers  themselves,  the  one  daily  teaching  for  it, 
and  the  other  against  it ;  which  grew  to  that  pass,  that  few  of  the 
disciples  of  the  one  would  hear  the  other  teach.  But  Mr.  Robinson, 
although  he  taught  thrice  a  week  himself,  and  wrote  sundry  books,  be¬ 
sides  his  manifold  pains  otherwise,  yet  he  went  constantly  to  hear  their 
readings,  and  heard  as  well  one  as  the  other.  By  which  means  he  was 
so  well  grounded  in  the  controversy,  and  saw  the  force  of  all  their  argu¬ 
ments,  and  knew  the  shifts  of  the  adversary  ;  and  being  himself  very 
able,  none  was  fitter  to  buckle  with  them  than  himself,  as  appeared  by 
sundry  disputes ;  so  as  he  began  to  be  terrible  to  the  Arminians  ;  which 
made  Episcopius,  the  Arminian  professor,  to  put  forth  his  best  strength, 
and  set  out  sundry  theses,  which  by  public  dispute  he  would  defend 
against  all  men.  Now  Polyander,  the  other  professor,  and  the  chief 


326 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


at  a  period  in  the  history  of  Arminianism  when  the  little 
finger  of  the  progenitor  was  not  so  thick  as  the  loins  of 
some  of  the  posterity.  The  controlling  spirits  among  the 
clergy  of  the  first  New  England  colonies  were  also  men 
of  the  same  theological  character  and  tendencies  with  the 
Owens  and  the  llobinsons.  The  membership  of  the  first 
New  England  churches  had  been  born  into  the  kingdom, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  a  style  of  preaching  and 
indoctrination,  searching,  systematic,  and  orthodox,  in  the 
highest  degree. 

c?  o 

It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  the  Congregationalism  of 
the  New  World  should  be  marked  by  the  same  respect 
for  the  old  historical  faith  which  we  have  noticed  in  the 
English  Independency.  In  1648,  ten  years  before  the 
English  Independents  adopted  their  symbol  at  Savoy,  the 
vigorous  and  vital  churches  scattered  through  the  forests, 
and  among  the  savages,  of  New  England,  sent  their  dele¬ 
gates  to  Cambridge,  who  drew  up  a  confession  of  which 
the  doctrinal  part  was  adopted  verbally  from  that  of 
Westminster,  while  the  polity  of  the  symbol  was  made  to 
conform  to  their  own  Congregational  theory  and  usage. 
Thirty-two  years  after  this,  the  churches  of  the  province 
of  Massachusetts  met  in  synod,  and  drew  up  the  only 
original  symbol  that  has  yet  been  constructed  by  an  eccle¬ 
siastical  body  of  Congregationalists.  The  Boston  Confes- 

preachers  of  the  city,  desired  Mr.  Robinson  to  dispute  against  him.  But 
he  was  ioth,  being  a  stranger.  Yet  the  other  did  importune  him,  and 
told  him  that  such  was  the  ability  and  nimbleness  of  wit  of  the  adver¬ 
sary,  that  the  truth  would  suffer  if  he  did  not  help  them  ;  so  he  con¬ 
descended,  and  prepared  himself  against  the  time.  And  when  the  time 
came,  the  Lord  did  so  help  him  to  defend  the  truth  and  foil  his  adver¬ 
sary,  as  he  put  him  to  an  apparent  nonplus  in  this  great  and  public 
audience.  And  the  like  he  did  two  or  three  times  upon  such  like  occa¬ 
sions.” —  Bradford’s  History  of  Plymouth  Colony,  Congregational  Board’s 
edition,  pp.  256,  257. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


327 


sion  of  16S0,  still  retained  as  its  creed  by  one  of  the  oldest 
churches  in  the  city  of  Boston,*  though  modelled  very 
much  after  those  of  Westminster  and  Savoy,  purports  to 
be  the  work  of  a  Congregational  Synod,  and  in  this  regard 
has  more  claim  to  the  respect  of  the  descendants  of  the 
Pilgrims  than  any  other  symbol.  Twenty-eight  years 
after  the  formation  of  the  Boston  Confession,  the  churches 
in  the  Connecticut  colony  sent  their  representatives  to 
Saybrook  to  construct  a  symbol  for  their  use.  This  synod 
adopted  the  Boston  Confession  of  1680,  as  an  expression 
of  doctrinal  belief,  and  made  a  fuller  statement  of  what 
they  deemed  to  be  the  Congregational  polity. 

This  brief  survey  is  sufficient  to  show  that  those  who  laid 
the  foundations  of  Congregationalism,  in  the  Old  world 
and  in  the  New,  were  in  hearty  sympathy  with  that  body 
of  doctrine  which  received  its  precise  and  technical  state¬ 
ment  in  the  creeds  of  the  Reformation,  and  more  particu¬ 
larly  in  that  carefully  discriminated  system  which  was  the 
result  of  the  debate  between  Calvinism  and  Arminianism. 
The  carefulness,  and  the  frequency  (three  times  within 
sixty  years)  with  which  symbols  were  drawn  up  and  sent 
forth  by  the  first  Congregational  churches  evinces  that 
both  the  individual  theologian,  and  the  denomination  as  a 
whole,  craved  a  distinct,  and  publicly  adopted,  rule  of 
faith  and  practice,  as  that  which  should  help  them  to 
study  the  Scriptures  understand inglv,  and  should  bind 
them  together  ecclesiastically.  Reverence  for  a  common 
denominational  creed  belongs,  then,  historically,  to  the  Con¬ 
gregational  church,  as  it  does  to  all  those  well-compacted 
churches  whose  career  constitutes  the  history  of  vital  Chris- 
tianitv  upon  earth.  In  seeking  to  deepen  and  strengthen 
this  reverence,  wTe  are  not  going  contrary  to  the  primal  in¬ 
stinct  and  native  genius  of  Congregationalism ;  we  are  not 

*  The  Old  South. 


328 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


engrafting  any  wild  shoots  into  the  church  of  our  fore¬ 
fathers  ;  we  are  simply  inhaling  and  exhaling  their  pure, 
their  exact,  their  thorough-going  spirit. 

1.  Passing  now  to  the  discussion  of  the  theme  itself,  we 
remark,  in  the  first  place,  as  a  reason  for  a  stronger  sym¬ 
bolical  feeling  in  Congregationalism,  that  an  intensely 
free  system,  like  our  own,  is  the  one  that  derives  all  the 
advantages,  and  escapes  all  the  evils,  that  result  from  the 
organific  power  of  a  symbol. 

Were  the  church  which  we  honor  and  love  already  rigid 
and  solid  by  reason  of  an  inherent  tendency  of  its  own  to 
centralization,  there  might  be  reason  to  fear  any  and 
every  consolidating  influence.  But  Congregationalism  is 
made  up  of  dynamic  forces  and  flowing  lines,  and  its  in¬ 
trinsic  tendency  is  to  liberty  and  diffusion.  There  is  no 
church  that  has  so  little  of  form,  and  figure,  and  organi¬ 
zation,  as  our  own.  Like  the  church  gathered  in  the 
upper  room,  its  constitution  is  almost  invisible.  We  are 
vastly  nearer  to  pure  spirit  than  to  pure  matter.  Our 
body  is  nearly  as  immaterial  as  some  souls.  There  is 
little  danger,  therefore,  that  Congregationalism  will  re- 
ceive  detriment  from  a  centripetal  force,  particularly  if 
That  force  does  not  issue  from  polity,  or  judicatories,  but 
from  doctrine.  And  there  is  no  danger  that  it  will  pro¬ 
ceed  from  either  government  or  ecclesiastical  mechanism. 
The  political  structure  of  our  denomination  is  as  well 
defined  and  settled  as  that  of  the  Papacy  itself,  and  stands 
even  less  chance  of  alteration.  No  centralizing  force  can 
be  brought  to  bear  from  this  quarter.  The  very  attempt  to 
establish  judicatures  within  Congregationalism,  and  to  unify 
and  consolidate  the  denomination  by  means  of  polity, 
would  be  suicidal ;  and,  therefore,  though  there  may  be 
secessions  and  departures  from  it,  there  can  be  no  internal 
change  of  the  denomination  as  a  whole,  unless  we  suppose 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


329 


an  entire  transmutation  of  it  into  something  that  is  not 
Congregationalism. 

The  only  power,  then,  that  can  unify  the  denomination, 
and  make  its  various  atoms  and  elements  feel  that  there  is 
a  deeper  life  and  bond  of  union  than  that  of  polity,  is  the 
power  of  doctrine  /  the  power  of  a  common  faith  /  the 
power  of  a  self -chosen  denominational  creed.  And  this  is 
both  a  salutary  and  safe  power,  in  reference  to  a  system 
so  highly  republican  as  our  own.  For  in  this  exuberance 
of  democratic  life,  and  this  expansive  freedom,  lies  our 
danger.  The  centrifugal  force,  if  unbalanced,  will  shoot 
the  star  madly  from  its  sphere.  Considering  that  our 
natural  tendencies  are  those  of  growth,  progress,  and  lib¬ 
erty,  and  that  all  natural  tendencies  perpetuate  themselves, 
our  watchfulness  ought  to  have  reference  to  such  traits 
as  unity,  solidarity  and  harmony.  That  which  is  sponta¬ 
neous  need  give  us  no  anxiety ;  but  that  which  is  to  be  ac¬ 
quired,  which  is  the  result  of  effort  and  of  self-education, 
should  be  the  chief  object  in  the  eye. 

We  may  derive  an  illustration  from  the  province  of  po¬ 
litical  philosophy.  The  question  whether  conservatism  or 
progress  shall  be  the  preponderating  element  in  the  state, 
will  be  answered  by  the  wise  man  in  view  of  the  general 
condition  of  things  in  the  commonwealth.  lie  whose  lot 
is  cast  among  the  hereditary  prerogatives  and  orders  of 
the  English  state,  if  he  follows  the  wise  course,  will  side 
with  the  Liberals ;  while  the  very  same  man,  if  called  to 
live  and  act  in  the  midst  of  the  fierce  democracies  and 
conflicts  of  a  new  and  rankly  growing  nation  like  our 
own,  will  side  with  Conservatism.  For  there  is  little  dan¬ 
ger,  in  the  early  and  formative  eras  of  a  nation’s  history, 
particularly  if  there  be  an  immense  fund  of  vital  force, 
and  vast  continental  spaces  to  spread  over  and  work  in, 
of  too  much  regulation  and  education.  The  training  is 

O  O 


330 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


more  liable  to  err  upon  the  side  of  laxness  than  of  strict¬ 
ness,  when  the  thews  and  muscles  of  a  giant  are  forming, 
and  the  gristle  is  hardening  into  the  bone  of  a  Hercules. 
Besides  this,  in  a  republican  commonwealth,  if  the  ten¬ 
dency  to  centralization  does  become  too  strong,  and  power 
really  begins  to  steal  from  the  many  to  the  few,  the  rem¬ 
edy  is  close  at  hand,  and  in  the  hands  of  the  citizens.  In 
a  monarchy,  if  the  just  equilibrium  has  been  disturbed,  it 
cannot  be  restored  without  a  revolution  ;  but  the  adjust¬ 
ment  in  a  republic  takes  place  by  an  inevitable  law  and  a 
tranquil  movement,  like  that  which  equalizes  the  pressure 
of  the  atmosphere.  In  all  free  systems,  therefore,  where 
the  instinct  and  the  spontaneity  runs  to  liberty  and  diffu¬ 
sion,  the  hazard  is  not  in  the  direction  of  conservative 
methods  and  influences. 

All  this  holds  true  in  its  full  force  of  the  democratic 
church,  as  well  as  of  the  democratic  state.  As  there  is  no 
lack  of  inward  energy  in  Congregationalism,  and  as  there 
is  no  external  restraint  from  its  political  structure  and  ar¬ 
rangement;  as  there  are  no  judicatures,  and  nothing,  con¬ 
sequently,  but  good  advice  by  which  to  hold  the  denomi¬ 
nation  together  ;  there  is  little  danger  of  an  excess  in  the 
moral  and  spiritual  forces  that  must  do  this  work,  if  it  be 
done  at  all.  As  that  individual  who  stands  up  isolated, 
and  independent  of  all  outward  restraints,  ought  for  this 
very  reason  to  feel  the  strongest  possible  inward  limita¬ 
tion,  so  should  that  ecclesiastical  bodv  which  has  least  of 
mechanism  and  of  polity,  subject  itself  to  the  strongest 
possible  doctrinal  and  spiritual  constraint.  Let  then  the 
svmbol  be  melted  into  the  soul  of  the  free  and  vigorous 
churches.  Let  it  permeate  them  as  quicksilver  does  the 
pores  of  gold.  Let  the  clearly  defined,  and  the  accurate 
dogma  become  the  sinew  and  fibre  of  the  otherwise  loose 
and  slack  organization. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CON G-KEG  ATION ALISM. 


331 


2.  Secondly,  Congregationalism  needs  a  stronger  confi¬ 
dence  in  creed-statements  because,  as  a  denomination,  it  is 
unusually  exposed  to  the  sceptical  influences  of  literary 
culture  and  free-thinking. 

It  so  happens  that  the  simplest  form  of  church  polity 
is  the  dominant  one,  the  “  standing  order,”  in  the  oldest 
and  most  highly  educated  portion  of  the  United  States. 
The  Congregational  churches  of  New  England  are  planted 
in  the  midst  of  the  most  artificial  civilization  upon  the 
Western  continent,  and  their  membership  is  more  exposed 
to  the  good  and  bad  influences  of  secular  refinement  and 
literary  cultivation,  than  is  that  of  any  other  denomination 
in  the  land.  The  first-settled,  and  most  densely-settled, 
part  of  any  country  always  contains  more  of  irreconcil¬ 
able  varieties  of  social,  literary,  and  religious  opinion  than 
the  newer  regions.  There  may  not  be  more  apparent  and 
superficial  variety,  but  there  will  be  vastly  more  of  the 
latent  and  profounder  differences  of  sentiment.  There 
are,  it  is  time,  a  much  greater  number  of  sects  in  our 
Western  states  than  in  the  Eastern,  but  then  these  sects 
themselves  are  founded  in  religion  of  some  sort,  and  not 
in  scepticism.  The  pioneer,  though  illiterate  and  rude, 
it  mav  be,  is  characterized  bv  religious  sensibility,  and  he 
is  continually  thrown  into  circumstances  and  emergencies 
that  cause  him  to  feel  his  dependence  upon  his  Maker. 
As  a  consequence,  he  is,  like  the  ancient  Athenians  to 
whom  Paul  spoke,  very  much  inclined  to  religion  and 
worship.  The  older  parts  of  our  land,  on  the  other  hand, 
may  exhibit  fewer  external  marks  of  difference  :  fewer 
sects  may  come  into  existence,  and  to  the  eye  of  the  super¬ 
ficial  observer,  there  may  seem  to  be  a  very  general  same¬ 
ness  in  the  external  phenomena  of  the  region,  and  yet 
there  be  forming,  and  formed,  beneath,  in  the  hearts  and 
minds  of  a  class  of  community,  a  disbelief  in  all  that  is 


332 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


properly  called  religion  that  throws  them  “whole  equi¬ 
noxes  apart  ”.from  those  who  are  living,  thinking,  praying; 
and  dying  by  their  side.  This  radical  divergence  of  the 
parties  from  each  other  is  seen  whenever  any  great  reli¬ 
gious  movement  takes  place.  The  motley  and  mottled 
population  of  the  new  region,  being  only  superficially 
separated,  flows  together  when  the  common  Christian 
faith  and  truth  is  set  home  with  unwonted  power  and  by 
unwonted  influences,  while  the  seemingly  homogeneous 
population  of  the  educated  and  refined  portions  of  the 
country  only  have  their  latent  and  irreconcilable  antago¬ 
nisms  elicited  by  such  influences.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
extremes  of  faith  and  unbelief  will  alwavs  meet,  in  their 
severest  conflict,  in  the  older  and  more  highly  cultivated 
portions  of  a  country.  And  that  church  which  is  called 
to  defend  and  propagate  the  faith  amongst  such  a  popu¬ 
lation,  is  consequently  exposed  to  unusual  temptations, 
and  needs  uncommon  aids  and  appliances. 

Such,  if  we  are  not  mistaken,  is  the  position  and  the 
function  of  Congregational  ism.  The  most  careless  ob- 
server  must  acknowledge  that  there  is  more  of  radical 
conflict  of  opinion  in  Hew  England  than  in  any  other 
portion  of  the  United  States.  That  scepticism  which  in¬ 
variably  springs  up  out  of  belles  lettres  when  belles  let- 
tres  is  divorced  from  deep  thinking,  is  more  rife  and 
forth-putting  here  than  anywhere  else.  These  older 
states  contain  more  of  that  religious  indifferentism  which 
always  arises  when  literature  is  separated  from  philosophy 
and  theology,  and  which  exhibits  its  opposition  to  Uew- 
Testament  Christianity,  sometimes  by  the  elegant  languor 
of  its  over-refinement,  and  sometimes,  when  exasperated 
into  some  emotion,  by  a  bitterness  that  borders  upon  ma¬ 
lignity.  The  Congregational  churches  are  set  for  the  de¬ 
fence  and  spread  of  the  humbling  doctrines  of  guilt  and 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


333 


atonement,  among  a  population  which  is  feeling  in  an  in¬ 
creasing  degree  the  stupefying  influences  of  wealth,  and 
the  inflating  influences  of  earthly  culture.  The  structure 
of  society  around  them,  like  that  of  England  or  France,  is 
growing  artificial,  and,  in  so  far,  irreligious,  by  the  very 
lapse  of  time,  and  the  influx  of  a  more  elaborate  civiliza¬ 
tion.  Loose  thinking,  and  radical  differences  of  opinion 
upon  fundamental  subjects,  are  the  natural  attendants 
upon  such  a  social  state  and  condition,  and  it  becomes 
much  more  difficult  for  Christianity  under  such  circum¬ 
stances  to  overcome  the  antagonisms  and  mould  society 
internally  and  from  the  centre.  The  newer  states,  and 
the  less  sophisticated  populations,  are  much  more  plastic, 
and,  in  all  their  internal  characteristics,  much  more  homo¬ 
geneous,  and  hence  the  church  that  is  planted  in  them 
only  needs  to  enunciate  certain  leading  truths  with  bold- 

xJ  Cj 

ness  and  fluent  eloquence,  to  create  currents  that  will  roll 
like  the  Mississippi  itself  through  the  whole  length  of  the 
land.  But  it  is  different  in  the  older  and  over-civilized 
portions  of  the  country.  The  statements  of  the  pulpit, 
here,  must  not  only  be  bold,  but  exact,  and  drawn  from 
the  deep  places.  The  preacher  must  be  an  anatomist, 
and  not  merely  a  painter.  He  cannot  break  up  moral  in¬ 
difference,  or  vanquish  religious  scepticism,  in  the  well- 
bred  and  well-read  hearer  before  him,  by  a  merely  pic¬ 
torial  method.  lie  must  prove  himself  to  be  a  psycholo¬ 
gist,  and  by  an  analysis  of  character,  by  a  subtle  penetra¬ 
tion  into  the  springs  of  motive  and  feeling,  elicit  some  re¬ 
ligious  consciousness  in  his  careless  and  unbelieving  audi¬ 
tor,  and  probe  it  until  he  writhes.  Christianity,  among 
old  institutions,  and  matured  methods  of  mental  disci¬ 
pline,  must  verify  itself  as  the  commanding  truth,  by  the 
enerow  of  its  abstraction,  the  clearness  of  its  discrimina- 
tion,  the  penetrating  force  of  its  elements,  the  comprehend 


334 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


si  veil  ess  of  its  grasp,  and  the  patient  thoroughness  of  its 
details. 

But  all  this  necessitates  the  symbol.  This  conflict  of 
opinion  in  cultivated  Christendom  can  be  stilled  only  by 
that  church  which  looks  down  upon  it  from  the  higher 
position  furnished  by  historical  Christianity.  That  denom¬ 
ination  which  thinks  to  dispense  with  the  results  of  past 
theologizing,  and  which  supposes  that,  of  and  by  itself,  it 
can  solve  all  the  problems  that  press  upon  the  natural 
mind,  and  refute  all  the  arguments  advanced  by  the  carnal 
reason,  will  tind  that  it  has  over-estimated  its  strength.  It 
will  be  forced  to  fall  back  into  the  solid  columns  that  are 
behind  it,  and  to  fight  the  battle  in  company  with  the 
whole  church  militant.  For  the  creeds  have  themselves 
been  born  of  intellectual  conflict ;  of  a  deeper  conflict 
than  is  ever  witnessed  by  any  single  church,  or  any  single 
generation,  because  they  are  the  slow  growth  of  many 
churches  and  many  Generations.  The  historical  symbol 
contains  the  key  to  those  very  problems  which  are 
troubling  every  new  generation  of  unbelievers,  because 
they  are  vainly  thinking  that  the  individual  is  wiser  than 
the  Christian  church,  and  wiser  than  the  human  race. 
That  church,  consequently,  which,  calmly  and  with  intel¬ 
ligent  foresight,  lias  adopted  it,  and  wrought  it  into  its 
understanding  and  its  affections,  will  be  able  to  still  the 
conflict  that  is  going  on,  either  by  lifting  the  doubting  or 
opposing  mind  up  to  its  own  serene  height  of  vision,  or  by 
an  argumentation  that  leaves  the  truth  triumphant  and 
firm,  whatever  becomes  of  the  opponent. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  a  stronger  symbolical  feeling  is  re¬ 
quired  in  Congregationalism,  because  of  the  laxness  with 
which  the  Bible  itself  is  now  interpreted  bv  many  minds 
in  the  Protestant  world. 

In  the  preceding  division  of  the  discourse  we  have 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


335 


spoken  of  the  dangers  that  assail  us  from  that  scepticism 
which  rejects  the  Bible  altogether;  we  have  now  to  speak 
of  those  latitudinarian  influences  which  issue,  not  from 
a  rejection  of  Revelation,  but  from  an  inadequate  and  de¬ 
fective  understanding  of  it.  When  the  Scriptures  have 
become  venerable  and  sacred  in  an  old  Christian  common¬ 
wealth,  and  yet  there  is  a  declining  interest  in  their  car¬ 
dinal  doctrines,  nothing;  is  more  natural  than  an  exegesis 
that  empties  them  of  these  doctrines.  “  The  Bible  is  the 
religion  of  Protestants  ”  is  a  dictum  accepted  at  the  pres¬ 
ent  day  by  Protestant  parties  that  stand  poles  apart  in 
their  interpretation  of  the  Bible,  and  their  theological 
belief.  This  dictum  meant  something  when  the  church 
was  just  escaping  from  the  crushing  authority  of  tradition 
and  of  the  Papacy.  It  taught  that  the  human  mind  must 
seek  for  an  infallible  rule  of  faith,  and  source  of  truth, 
in  the  word  of  God,  and  not  in  the  church.  But  the 
Reformers  held,  and  with  very  great  earnestness  too,  that 
the  Bible  teaches  but  one  set  of  doctrines,  and  contains 
but  one  homogeneous  system.  They  were  themselves 
strict  constructionists  and  exegetes,  and  every  line  and  let¬ 
ter  of  their  creeds  evinces  that  they  could  discover  within 
its  pages  only  that  same  doctrinal  system  which  the  Patris¬ 
tic  church,*  as  distinguished  from  the  Papal,  had  found 
in  them.  The  Reformers  had  no  notion  that  the  Bible  is 
a  nose  of  wax.  It  could  not  be  made  to  teach  two  or 
more  systems  radically  contradictory  to  each  other.  When, 
therefore,  they  called  the  church  back  to  Divine  Revela¬ 
tion,  as  the  only  unerring  source  of  truth,  they  did  not 

*  And  the  Western ,  rather  than  the  Eastern,  Patristic  church,  it 
should  always  be  observed.  Luther  and  Calvin  fortified  themselves,  in 
their  contest  with  the  Papal  theologian,  who  asserted  that  the  Protest¬ 
ants  were  leaving  the  faith  of  the  “  Fathers,”  by  citing  the  stricter 
views  held  by  the  Latin,  rather  than  the  milder  tenets  adopted  by  the 
Greek,  divines. 


336 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


suppose  that  they  were  sending  it  to  a  Delphic  oracle, 
uttering  ambiguous  voices,  like  those  of  Paganism.  And 
neither  did  the  first  Protestants  themselves  find  two  antag¬ 
onistic  lines  of  doctrine  in  these  Scriptures.  From  Gene¬ 
sis  to  the  Apocalypse,  the  modern  Protestant  church,  as 
had  the  ancient  Patristic  before  them,  discovered  but  one 
generic  and  homogeneous  teaching  respecting  the  being 
and  attributes  of  God,  the  actual  character  and  destiny  of 
man,  and  the  method  of  his  redemption  by  a  Mediator. 
And  they  embodied  the  results  of  their  profound  and  sys¬ 
tematic  study  of  the  Bible,  in  that  remarkable  series  of 
symbols,  which  more  than  anything  else  of  a  human  sort 
consolidated  Protestantism,  and  gave  it  a  firm  fibre  and 
organization,  wherebv  it  stood  strong  amidst  all  the  dis- 
tractions  of  the  time.  Had  there  been  radical  differences 
among  the  Peformers  in  their  understanding  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  ;  had  Luther  and  Calvin  been  unable  to  see  eye  to  eve 
upon  the  leading  truths  relating  to  God,  Man,  and  the  God- 
Man,  and  had  they  constructed  creeds  for  the  German, 
Swiss,  and  Holland  churches,  that  were  antagonistic  to 
each  other  upon  these  subjects  ;  had  there  not  been  in  this 
remarkable  age  the  most  profound  and  exhaustive  study 
of  the  word  of  God,  and  as  a  consequence,  a  most  har¬ 
monious  understanding  of  its  contents,  Protestantism 
would  have  been  broken  down,  and  crushed  into  the  earth, 
by  the  massive,  time-honored,  though  merely  mechanical 
unity  of  the  Papacy. 

But  in  process  of  time,  the  term  Protestant  acquires 
the  same  vague  and  loose  meaning  which  the  term  Chris- 
tian  has  received.  When  the  disciples  of  Christ  were  first 
called  by  this  name  at  Antioch,  it  denoted  only  those  who 
had  come  to  a  personal  sense  of  sin,  and  a  living 
faith  in  the  Bedeemer.  It  now,  besides  this,  designates 
all  of  the  human  family  who  are  not  Pagans  or  Moham* 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


337 


medans.  In  like  manner  the  term  Protestant,  in  the 
beginning,  had  exclusive  reference  to  religious  and  doc- 
trinal  characteristics,  while  now^it  has  certainly  an  equal 
reference  to  intellectual  traits.  Protestantism,  at  first, 
meant  justification  by  faith,  in  distinction  from  justifica¬ 
tion  by  works.  It  now  means,  over  and  besides  this,  free- 
thinking  and  private  judgment,  in  distinction  from  hered¬ 
itary  trust  and  unreasoning  assent.*  As  a  consequence, 
the  intellectual  characteristics  of  Protestantism  are  apt  to 
overcome  and  suppress  its  evangelical  and  theological 
ones,  in  those  periods  when  civilization  and  literary  cul¬ 
ture  become  separated  from  doctrinal  Christianity.  As 
matter  of  fact,  the  Protestantism  of  the  present  day 
includes  within  itself  an  amount  of  rationalistic  and  anti¬ 
evangelical  elements,  at  which  the  Reformers,  the  original 
Protestants,  would  have  stood  aghast. 

But  this  condition  of  things  directly  affects  the  inter¬ 
pretation  of  the  Scriptures.  All  Protestants,  of  whatever 
grade,  must  accept  the  dictum  that  distinguishes  Protes¬ 
tantism  from  Popery  ;  otherwise  they  fall  into  the  ranks 
of  the  Pope.  Chillingworth’s  saying  :  u  The  Bible  is  the 
religion  of  Protestants,”  becomes  the  watchword  for 
Socinus,  equally  with  Calvin,  and  for  all  the  intermedi¬ 
ates  between  these  two  representative  men.  In  order, 
therefore,  to  an  unambiguous  and  well-accented  denomi¬ 
national  character,  every  Protestant  denomination  requires 
a  symbol  that  shall  express,  and  proclaim  to  the  world, 
what  it  finds  in  the  word  of  God.  In  the  present  condi¬ 
tion  of  Protestantism,  and  amidst  the  variety  of  interpre- 

*  This  is  the  preponderating-  conception  of  Protestantism,  in  Mr. 
Hallam’s  representation  of  the  Reformers  and  of  the  Reformation.  A 
deeper  acquaintance  with  the  theological  problems  and  aspects  of  those 
men  and  times  would  have  preserved  the  history  of  the  Literature  of 
Europe  from  the  only  grave  bias  that  now  injures  it. 

15 


338 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGEEGATIONALISM. 


tations  that  are  put  upon  the  Scriptures,  it  is  not  sufficient 
for  an  individual,  or  a  church,  to  say  :  “My  religion  is  in 
the  Bible.”  Well  do  we  remember  the  humor  with  which 
a  venerable  theological  teacher  was  wont  to  allude  to  the 
zeal  of  a  well-meaning  man,  who  proposed  to  unite  into 
one  body  all  the  various  denominations  that  checker  and 
speckle  our  land,  by  issuing  an  edition  of  the  Scriptures 
with  a  sufficiency  of  blank  leaves,  and  inviting  all  persons 
to  fall  to,  and  subscribe  the  Bible  !  It  is  not  enough,  in 
the  present  condition  of  Christendom,  for  an  individual  to 
point  at  the  word  of  God,  as  it  lies  upon  the  table,  saying : 
“  Mv  doctrinal  belief  is  between  those  covers.”  As  we 
cannot  determine,  in  these  days  of  naturalism  and  panthe¬ 
ism,  what  lessons  the  scientific  man  learns  from  the  book 
of  Nature,  until  he  has  stated  them  in  the  exact  nomencla¬ 
ture  and  precise  phraseology  of  science,  so  neither  can  we 
decide  what  teachings  the  Protestant  now  finds  in  the 
book  of  Revelation  until  he  has  written  out  his  creed. 

“  The  subscription  to  Scripture,”  said  Edmund  Burke, 
“is  the  most  astonishing  idea  I  ever  heard,  and  will  amount 
to  just  nothing  at  all.  Gentlemen  so  acute  have  not,  that 
I  have  heard,  ever  thought  of  answering  a  plain  obvious 
question :  What  is  that  Scripture,  to  which  they  are  con¬ 
tent  to  subscribe  ?  They  do  not  think  that  a  book  becomes 
of  divine  authority  because  it  is  bound  in  blue  morocco 
and  is  printed  by  John  Basket  and  his  assigns.  The  Bible 
is  a  vast  collection  of  different  treatises  :  a  man  who  holds 
the  divine  authority  of  one  may  consider  the  other  •  as 
merely  human.  What  is  his  canon?  The  Jewish — St. 
Jerome’s  —  that  of  the  Thirty-Nine  Articles  —  Luther’s? 
Therefore  to  ascertain  Scripture  you  must  have  one  article 
more ;  you  must  define  what  that  Scripture  is  which  you 
mean  to  teach.  There  are,  I  believe,  very  few  who,  when 
Scripture  is  so  ascertained,  do  not  see  the  absolute  neces- 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


339 


sity  of  knowing  what  general  doctrine  a  man  draws  from 
it,  before  lie  is  sent  down,  authorized  by  the  State,  to  teach 
it  as  pure  doctrine,  and  receive  fyTenth  of  the  produce  of 
our  lands.  The  Scripture  is  no  one  summary  of  doctrines 
reoailarlv  digested,  in  which  a  man  could  not  mistake  his 
way.  It  is  a  most  venerable,  but  most  multifarious  collec- 
tion  of  the  records  of  the  divine  economy  ;  a  collection  of 
an  infinite  variety  of  cosmogony,  theology,  history,  proph¬ 
ecy,  psalmody,  morality,  epilogue,  allegory,  legislation, 
ethics,  carried  through  different  books,  by  different  au¬ 
thors,  at  different  ages,  for  different  ends  and  purposes. 
It  is  necessary  to  sort  out  what  is  intended  for  example, 
what  only  as  narrative,  what  to  be  understood  literally, 
what  figuratively,  where  one  precept  is  to  be  controlled 
and  modified  by  another,  what,  is  used  di recti v  and  what 
onlv  as  an  argument  ad  hominem ,  what  is  temporary  and 
what  of  perpetual  obligation,  what  is  appropriated  to  one 
state  and  to  one  set  of  men,  and  what  the  general  duty  of 
all  Christians.  If  we  do  not  get  some  security  for  this, 
we  not  only  permit,  but  we  actually  pay  for,  all  the  danger¬ 
ous  fanaticism  which  can  be  produced  to  corrupt  our  peo¬ 
ple,  and  to  derange  the  public  worship  of  the  country.  We 
owe  the  best  we  can  (not  infallibility,  but  prudence)  to  the 
subject:  first  sound  doctrine,  then  ability  to  use  it.”  * 

In  order,  therefore,  that  the  Congregational  churches 

*  Speech  on  the  Acts  of  Uniformity. — It  may  be  said,  that  the  Con¬ 
gregational  churches  do  write  out  their  creed,  each  one  for  itself,  and 
therefore  do  not  need  a  denominational  symbol.  But  upon  this  method, 
they  are  less  assisted  by  a  common  and  self -authorized  interpretation  of 
the  Scriptures,  than  most  other  denominations  ;  and  less  than  their 
ancestors  were  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  if  we  are  to  judge  from  the 
denominational  action  at  Cambridge,  Boston,  and  Saybrook.  Have  we 
not  applied  our  theory  respecting  church-discipline,  to  church-doctrine, 
somewhat  to  our  own  disadvantage,  from  overlooking  the  difference 
between  the  two  things  ?  It  is  our  belief,  as  it  was  that  of  our  fore¬ 
fathers,  that  it  is  expedient  that  government  and  discipline  should  be 


34:0 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


may  escape  the  evils  incident  to  the  great  Protestant  right 
of  private  judgment,  and  the  freedom  of  speculation  which 
always  goes  along  with  it,  and  may  derive  only  the  advan¬ 
tages  flowing  from  it,  they  need,  as  a  denomination,  to 
state  their  own  judgment,  in  the  most  exact  and  distinct 
manner,  with  respect  to  the  meaning  and  doctrinal  con¬ 
tents  of  the  Bible.  For  in  this  way  alone  can  they  pre¬ 
vent  the  private  judgment  of  other  Protestant  parties  and 
denominations  from  being  imposed  upon  them  for  their 
own.  As  this  is  a  point  of  some  importance,  we  will 
dwell  upon  it  for  a  moment.  There  is  little  danger  that 
a  denomination  like  our  own  should  be  much  affected,  in 

confined  as  strictly  as  possible  to  the  local  church,  and  that  as  little  as 
possible  even  of  advice  should  be  called  in  through  councils,  associa¬ 
tions,  or  the  denomination  as  a  whole.  And  it  also  seems  to  be  our  be¬ 
lief,  as  it  was  not  that  of  our  forefathers  (judging  from  their  denomina¬ 
tional  action),  that  it  is  equally  expedient  that  the  doctrinal  creed 
should  be  drawn  up  by  every  local  church  for  itself,  and  that  a  common 
concert  and  cooperation  of  the  churches  of  the  denomination,  in  this 
respect,  is  as  undesirable  as  with  respect  to  cases  of  church  discipline. 
But  are  we  not  mistaken  in  this,  from  not  observing  the  great  difference 
there  is  between  doctrine  and  discipline  ?  While  it  is  well  that  all  those 
secondary  affairs  which  pertain  to  church  government  should  be  guided 
as  much  as  possible  by  each  individual  church  for  itself,  and  there 
should  be  all  the  variety  of  adjustment  incident  to  the  great  number 
and  variety  of  such  affairs,  is  it  as  well  that  the  primary  matter  of  doc¬ 
trinal  statement,  which  from  the  nature  of  the  case  is  a  fixed  quantity, 
should  be  exposed  to  all  the  liability  to  variation  and  divergence  from 
the  exact  truth  that  necessarily  attaches  to  individual  and  local  action 
repeated  every  time  that  a  church  is  formed  ?  This  work,  unlike  the 
other,  does  not  require  to  be  performed  anew  every  day.  and  continu¬ 
ally.  Truth  is  unchangeable.  The  creed  for  the  denomination  ought, 
therefore,  to  be  the  work  of  the  denomination,  and  be  constructed  once 
for  all.  But  church  discipline  is  required  anew  and  afresh  every  day, 
because  it  grows  out  of  the  ever-changing  circumstances  of  the  day.  It 
may,  therefore,  be  administered  by  the  day — that  is,  whenever  the 
occasion  arises,  and  by  the  local  body,  because  the  local  body  is  con¬ 
cerned  in  the  speciality  of  the  case. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


341 


the  outset,  by  those  forms  of  Protestantism  which  reject 
the  essential  doctrines  of  Christianity.  The  difference 
between  Rationalism  and  Supernaturalism  is  too  great  for 
influences  to  pass  directly  from  one  to  the  other.  The 
chasm  between  these  parties  is  so  wide  that  they  cannot 
hear  each  other’s  voices  across  it.  The  latitudinarian  in¬ 
fluences  (latitudinarian  as  we  must  regard  them  from  our 
denominational  position)  will  first  come  in  upon  us  from 
those  evangelical  divisions  in  Protestantism  who  hold  the 
doctrines  of  grace,  but  who,  according  to  our  denomina¬ 
tional  judgment,  do  not  hold  them  with  sufficient  self -con¬ 
sistence  and  comprehensiveness ,  to  render  their  creed ,  and 
their  theologizing ,  as  accurate  as  our  own.  The  nice 
point,  and  therefore  the  point  of  most  danger,  for  Congre¬ 
gationalism,  and  for  all  other  denominations  that  occupy  the 
same  doctrinal  position  with  it,  is  the  right  adjustment  of 
its  relations,  not  to  downright  heresy,  but  to  a  looser  and 
less  defined  form  of  orthodoxy  than  Congregationalism 
thinks  itself  can  stand  upon.  We  may  illustrate  our 
meaning  by  reference  to  the  great  controversy  which  has 
gone  on  from  the  very  first  ages  to  the  present  time,  be¬ 
tween  the  two  grand  divisions  of  evangelical  Christendom. 
We  refer  to  that  standing  difference  of  opinion  among 
believers  in  the  general  doctrines  of  grace,  which,  in  the 
Patristic  church,  showed  itself  in  the  Augustinian  and 
Semi-Pelagian  divisions,  and,  in  the  Protestant  church, 
in  the  Calvinistic  and  Arminian  controversies.  In  these 
two  great  divisions  of  ancient  and  modern  evangelical 
Christendom,  we  find  a  difference  of  sentiment,  not  with 
regard  to  the  general  facts  and  truths  of  New  Testament 
Christianity,  but  with  respect  to  the  more  specific  and 
exact  definitions  of  them.*  And  it  is  with  reference  to 

*  “  That  man  is  no  longer  in  his  pure  and  primitive  moral  condition, 
and  that  the  mere  cultivation  of  his  present  natural  powers  and  sus 


342 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


this  specific  enunciation  of  the  general  doctrines  of  grace 
that  the  principal  controversy  has  gone  on,  and  is  still 
going  on,  within  the  evangelical  world.  For  it  is  a  great 
mistake  to  suppose  that  the  Patristic  church  was  very 
much  convulsed  by  the  controversy  with  mere  and  sheer 
Pelagianism  ;  or  that  the  Protestant  church  has  been  very 
much  excited  or  tasked  by  mere  and  sheer  Socinianism. 
Both  of  these  schemes  are  so  totally  different  from  the 
plain  teachings  of  the  entire  and  unmutilated  Scripture 
that  there  was  no  opportunity  for  a  profound  argument, 
and  a  permanent  debate  ;  and  hence  both  of  these  schemes 
alike  dropped  back  into  their  own  private  and  local  cir¬ 
cles,  while  the  great  mass  of  the  Patristic,  as  of  the  Prot¬ 
estant  church,  retained,  and  defended  the  evangelical  the¬ 
ology.  But  upon  this  basis  of  general  evangelism,  there 
was  an  opportunity  for  an  argument,  and  an  honest  differ¬ 
ence  of  sentiment,  among  true  believers  in  Christ.  The 
ancient  Semi-Pelagian,  like  the  modern  Arminian,  while 
confessing  his  sin,  and  trusting  in  the  blood  of  Christ, 
could  sincerelv  urge  what  he  believed  to  be  a  strong  argil- 
ment  against  the  doctrines  of  predestination  and  irresisti- 

ceptibilities  cannot  possibly  suffice  for  the  attainment  of  the  true  end  of 
his  creation ;  that,  on  the  contrary,  his  original  divinely-created  nature 
has  become  corrupted  and  ruined  by  the  dominion  within  him  of  the 
principle  of  self-will,  and  that  in  order  to  live  conformably  with  his  own 
original  constitution,  and  to  practice  holiness  from  a  holy  disposition, 
he  needs  an  inward  change  through  a  divine  power — all  this,  in  a  gene¬ 
ral  form  of  statement,  had  been  the  doctrine  of  the  church  from  the 
first.  It  was  only  when  still  more  strict  definitions  and  statements  were 
attempted — and  particularly  when  such  questions  as  these  arose  :  Is 
there  in  the  fallen  soul  any  power  of  self-restoration  ?  if  so,  to  what 
degree  ?  and  what  is  its  relation  to  the  renewing  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  ? — that  the  church  of  the  first  four  centuries  found  itself  not  fully 
agreed.  There  was  constantly  a  difference,  in  this  respect,  between  the 
Oriental  and  Occidental  churches,  and  to  some  extent  also  within  the 
Occidental  church  itself.” — Guericke’s  Church  History,  §  91. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


343 


ble  giace,*  and  that  particular  statement  of  the  doctrine 
of  original  sin  out  of  which  the  doctrines  of  predestina¬ 
tion  and  irresistible  grace  issue  as  necessary  corollaries. 
And  his  opponent  showed  his  respect  for  that  belief,  by 
entering  into  the  debate,  and  defending  what  he  believed 
to  be  the  more  exact,  and  self-consistent,  and  all-compre¬ 
hending  statement  of  that  same  evangelical  system.  Not 
with  reference,  then,  to  the  tenets  of  Pelagius  and  So- 
cinus.  but  to  those  of  Chrysostom  and  Arminius,  as  distin¬ 
guished  from  those  of  Augustine  and  Calvin,  do  the  Con- 
gregational  churches  need  a  strong  symbolical  feeling  that 

O  o  o  o 

will  identify  them  yet  more  thoroughly  with  the  stricter 
of  those  two  great  systems  of  theology,  whose  fraternal 
(and  may  it  ever  be  fraternal)  conflict  and  debate  consti¬ 
tutes  the  sum  and  substance  of  evangelical  doctrinal  his¬ 
tory. 

For  Congregationalism,  it  is  agreed  upon  all  sides,  does 
not  adopt  the  Arminian  system  as  its  doctrinal  basis.  The 
early  history  of  the  denomination  lias  shown  that  the 
fathers  and  founders  were  strictly  Calvinistic,  in  reference 
to  the  points  at  issue  between  Geneva  and  Leyden.  Says 
the  respected  secretary  of  this  Library  Association,  at  the 
close  of  a  most  instructive  historical  sketch  of  the  Congre- 
gational  churches  in  Massachusetts  :  “  Calvinism  as  a  system 
of  religious  faith,  and  Puritanism  as  a  code  of  morals  (the 
two  toughest  things  that  ever  entered  into  the  composition 
of  human  character),  were  the  original  soul  and  body  of 
these  Congregational  churches.”  And  this  Calvinism,  he 
adds,  was  “  that  unadulterated  Calvinism  which  had  been 
filtered  of  every  Arminian  particle  by  the  Synod  of  Port, 

*  “Irresistible,”  it  is  needless  to  remark,  not  in  the  sense  of  never 
being  resisted  by  the  enmity  of  the  carnal  mind  (Rom.  8  :  7),  but  in 
the  sense  of  being  able  to  overcome,  and  actually  overcoming,  the  ut= 
most  energy  and  intensity  of  that  resistance. 


344 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


whose  ablest  defender  was  John  Robinson.”  *  And  no 
one  can  follow  the  tremendous  cogency  of  that  logic  by 
which  the  great  head  of  New  England  theology  crushes 
to  its  minutest  fibre  the  Arminian  theory  of  indetermina¬ 
tion,  and  the  Arminian  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  Orig¬ 
inal  Sin,  without  perceiving  that  there  was  a  most  pro¬ 
found  harmony  and  agreement  between  the  mind  at 
Northampton,  and  the  minds  at  Dort  and  Westminster. 
The  successors  of  Edwards,  New  England  divines  of  all 
varieties,  alike  repel  the  charge  of  Arminianizing  pro¬ 
clivities  ;  and,  though  there  may  be  a  difference  of  opinion 
respecting  the  success  with  which  the  several  schools  that 
have  arisen  among  us  have  untied  the  knots,  and  unravelled 
the  intricacies  of  the  Calvinistic  system,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  all  of  our  leading  thinkers  have  intended,  and 
done  their  utmost,  to  be  true  to  the  historical  faith  of  their 
denomination. 

The  influence  of  the  symbol  is  required  to  strengthen 
and  perpetuate  in  Congregationalism  this  same  primitive 
energy  and  decision  in  favor  of  the  stricter  of  the  two 
systems  of  evangelical  theology.  Eor  the  creed-statement 
evinces  that  there  is  no  logical  middle  position  between 
Calvinism  and  Arminianism,  and  that  the  choice  of  an 
individual  or  a  denomination,  consequently,  lies  between 
the  one  or  the  other.  Semi-Pelagianism  was  a  real  mid- 

CJ 

point  between  the  tenets  of  Augustine  and  those  of  Pela- 
gius ;  but  there  is  no  true  intermediate  between  the  sys¬ 
tem  of  Arminius  and  that  of  Calvin.  In  the  history  of 
doctrine  there  are  sometimes  semiquavers,  but  demi-semi- 
quavers  never.  In  marking  off  the  true  scientific  differ¬ 
ence  in  this  way,  in  making  up  the  exact  issue,  between 

*  Congregationalist,  Feb.  12,  1858.  These  valuable  sketches  have 
recently  been  collected,  and  published  with  additions,  by  the  Congrega¬ 
tional  Board  of  Publication. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATION AI  [SM. 


345 


the  two  great  theological  systems  of  Christendom  that  are 
kindred  but  not  equivalents,  the  historical  creed  is  an 
educating;  force  of  the  highest  value  to  a  denomination. 
It  imparts  frankness  and  clearness^  all  minds  within  it, 
and  frankness  and  clearness  are  twin  sisters  to  generosity 
and  catholicity. 

4.  Fourthly,  a  stronger  symbolical  feeling,  operating  in 
Congregationalism,  would  tend  to  harmonize  its  own  theo¬ 
logians  among  themselves. 

It  is  the  tendency  of  our  highly  republican  system  to 
call  out  vigorous  and  independent  thinking.  As  a  conse¬ 
quence,  our  denomination  more  than  others,  has  from  the 
beginning  been  stimulated,  and  sometimes  startled,  by  the 
uprising  of  those  salient  minds  who  become  the  nuclei  of 
parties,  and  the  heads  of  schools.  Minor  and  somewhat 
local  systems,  each  in  its  own  time  and  place,  have  thus 
radiated  their  influence  through  the  denomination,  have 
come  more  or  less  into  collision  with  each  other,  and  have 
thereby  imparted  to  Congregationalism  that  varied  and 
somewhat  parti-colored  aspect  which  it  wears  when  com¬ 
pared  with  ecclesiastical  bodies  in  which  there  is  less 
boldness  of  speculation.  This  is  the  genius  of  Congrega¬ 
tionalism,  and  we  would  not  transform  it  if  we  could. 
This  desire  to  evince  the  reasonableness  of  Christianity, 
this  inquisitive  and  enterprising  temper,  this  scholasticism 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  is  the  vitality  by  which  theo¬ 
logical  science  in  every  age  has  been  built  up.  But  vital 
force  must  always  have  materials  to  work  upon,  and  ideas 
to  work  by.  And  these  we  would  find, /hr  the  theologian , 
in  the  denominational  symbol.  For  it  is  not  enough  to 
refer  him  to  the  Bible  without  note  or  comment.  Were 
he  a  convicted  sinner  only,  and  were  it  his  object  to  seek 
his  own  personal  salvation,  this  direction  would  be  suffi¬ 
cient.  But  he  is  a  theologian,  and  as  such  it  is  his  pur- 
15* 


346 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


pose  to  construct  a  great  comprehensive  system  that  shall 
do  justice  to  the  entire  word  of  God — that  shall  not  omit 
a  single  truth,  and  shall  place  every  doctrine  in  its  right 
relations  and  proportions — and  therefore  he,  in  the  capa¬ 
city,  and  exercising  the  function  of  a  theologian ,  must  be 
assisted  in  this  collection  and  combination  of  the  contents 
of  Revelation  by  the  labor  of  all  his  predecessors.  To  shut 
up  a  single  individual  with  the  mere  text  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  demand  that,  by  his  own  unassisted  studies  and  medi¬ 
tations  upon  it,  he  should  during  his  own  life-time  build 
np  a  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  like  that  of 
Nice,  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ  like  that  of 
Chalcedon,  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  like  that  of 
the  Augsburg  and  Helvetic  Confessions,  of  the  doctrines 
of  Sin  and  Predestination  like  that  of  Dort  and  West¬ 
minster,  would  be  to  require  an  impossibility.  It  would 
be  like  demanding  that  a  theologian  of  the  year  150 
should  construct,  in  his  single  day  and  generation,  the 
entire  systematic  theology  of  the  year  1850;  that  a  Justin 
Martyr,  e.  y.,  should  anticipate  and  perform  the  entire 
thinking  of  a  thousand  minds  and  of  seventeen  hundred 
years !  And  yet  the  substance  and  staple  of  all  this  vast 
and  comprehensive  system  of  divinity  was  in  that  Bible 
which  Justin  Martyr  possessed  without  note  or  comment. 

The  theorizing  spirit  of  the  individual  divine  needs, 
therefore,  to  be  both  aided  and  guided  by  symbols.  In 
proportion  as  individual  thinkers  can  bear  in  mind  that 
the  church  which  they  honor  and  love  has  already  earned 
a  definite  theological  character,  and  has  given  expression 
to  its  theological  preferences  in  its  own  self-chosen  creed, 
they  will  come  under  a  unifying  influence.  Their  differ¬ 
ences  and  idiosyncrasies,  instead  of  being  exaggerated  by 
themselves  or  their  adherents,  will  be  modified,  and  har¬ 
monized,  by  the  central  system  under  which  all  stand,  and 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATION AI  ISM. 


347 


to  which  the  whole  bod)T  has  given  assent.  There  will  be 
no  loss  of  mental  vigor  upon  this  method,  nor  of  true 
mental  originality,  any  more  than  there  is  when  the  mathe- 
matician’s  genius  is  guided  and  stimulated  by  the  axioms 
and  theorems  of  a  science  that  was  wrought  out  before  he 
was  born.  lie  does  not  copy,  but  he  reproduces,  the 
mathematical  processes  of  the  pastywithin  his  own  intel¬ 
lect,  and  in  and  by  this  reproduction  is  conducted  to  fresh 
and  original  products  that  are  also  in  the  true  scientific 
line.  In  what  other  way  will  the  active  and  ingenious 
minds  of  a  denomination  be  likely  to  see  eye  to  eye,  and 
the  sum-total  of  their  speculations  constitute  a  homogene¬ 
ous  theology,  except  as  they  revere  the  symbolism  of  their 
ancestors?  It  is  when  differing,  and  perhaps  diverging, 
minds  are  called  upon  to  defend  the  peculiarities  of  a 
common  denominational  faith,  that  their  differences  are 
dissolved.  So  long  as  it  is  an  open  question  what  the 
common  faith  is,  and  the  thinkers  of  a  denomination  are 
at  leisure  to  cultivate  their  peculiarities,  so  long  there 
must  be  collision  and  debate.  But  the  very  instant  it 
appears  that  there  is  a  recognized  denominational  creed, 
and  it  becomes  necessary  to  maintain  this  creed  as  vital  to 
the  very  existence  and  growth  of  the  denomination,  all 
sincere  members  of  it  rally  to  the  defence  ;  and  the  ten¬ 
dency  of  defences,  as  the  whole  history  of  Apologies 
proves,  is  to  harmonize  and  unite.* 

5.  Fifthlv,  and  finally,  Congregationalism  needs  a 

*  When  the  doctrine  of  vicarious  satisfaction  was  attacked  by  Duns 
Scotus,  Thomas  Aquinas  rushed  to  its  defence,  and  in  so  doing  substan¬ 
tially  retracted  positions  which  he  himself  had  previously  taken  ;  be¬ 
cause  he  now  saw,  as  he  did  not  before,  that  it  was  impossible  to  defend 
the  faith  of  the  church  if  he  retained  them.  And  the  whole  history  of 
Calvinism  proves  that  it  has  been  enunciated  with  most  unanimity,  and 
defended  with  greatest  power,  when  the  Calvinistic  divines  were  hard 
est  pressed  by  their  Arminian  opponents. 


348 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


stronger  symbolical  feeling,  in  order  to  success  in  its 
present  endeavor  to  extend  its  denominational  limits. 

The  two  forms  of  evangelical  Christianity  which  are  to 
spread  over  the  United  States  are  the  Calvinistic  and  the 
Arminian.  The  history  of  the  church  upon  this  Western 
continent  will  be  substantially  the  same  with  its  history  in 
the  Eastern.  One  portion  of  American  Christendom  will 
demand  the  more  exact  and  self-consistent  statement  of 
Biblical  doctrine,  while  the  other  portion  will  be  content 
with  that  less  precise  and  comprehensive  enunciation  of  it 
which  emphasizes,  indeed,  with  evangelical  energy,  the 
doctrine  of  forgiveness  through  the  blood  of  Christ,  but 
rejects  the  predestination  and  irresistible  grace  that  secures 
the  vital  acceptance  of  the  Gospel  provision.  Through¬ 
out  the  land;  there  will  be  those,  on  the  one  hand,  who, 
in  the  phrase  of  Edward  Irving,  44  will  rest  content  with 
the  infant  state  of  Christ,  and  see  no  more  in  the  rich 
treasures  of  God’s  word  than  a  free  gift  to  all  men,  shrink¬ 
ing  back  with  a  feeling  of  dismay  from  such  parts  of  the 
sacred  volume  as  favor  a  system  of  doctrine  suited  to  the 
manly  state  of  Christian  life  ;  ”  and  those  on  the  other, 
who  44  will  not  be  content  evermore  to  dwell  in  the  outer 
court  of  the  holy  temple,  but  who  resolve  for  their  soul’s 
better  peace  and  higher  joy  to  enter  into  the  holy  and 
most  holy  place,  which  is  no  longer  veiled  and  forbidden, 
and  find  a  full  declaration  of  the  deepest  secrets  of  their 
faith,  expression  for  their  inmost  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
and  forms  for  their  most  profound  feeling,  upon  the  pecu¬ 
liar,  and  appropriate,  and  never-failing  love  of  a  covenant 
God  towards  his  own  peculiar  people.”  *  The  American 
church,  like  the  old  Patristic,  like  the  modern  European, 
will  crave,  according  to  the  grade  of  its  Christian  culture, 


*  Irving’s  Preface  to  Home  on  the  Psalms. 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


349 


either  the  milk  that  is  for  babes,  or  the  meat  that  is  for 
strong  men. 

Congregationalism  now  proposes  to  go  from  East  to 
"West,  from  North  to  South,  upon  its  mission  of  love. 
Outside  of  its  old  ancestral  home,  it  is  not  yet  strong. 
It  enters  into  a  friendly  rivalry  with  other  branches  of 
Christ’s  ■church,  upon  fields  which  they  have  preoccupied, 
and  upon  which  it  has  yet  to  get  ^ar firm  foothold.  Shall 
it  give  up  or  modify,  its  old  historical  character,  and 
adopt  the  laxer  of  the  two  great  systems  of  evangelical 
doctrine,  and  seek  to  build  up  churches  upon  the 
same  doctrinal  basis  with  the  pioneering,  the  fervid, 
the  beloved  *  Methodist  ?  If  it  does,  it  will  fail ;  first, 
because  it  will  not  be  true  to  its  own  genius  and  ante- 
cedents,  and  second,  because  the  wonderfully  effective  and 
persistent  “  method  ”  of  Methodism  will  absorb  all  its  ac¬ 
quisitions,  upon  this  basis,  into  itself. 

It  only  remains,  therefore,  for  Congregationalism  to 
carry  into  the  new  regions  which  it  proposes  to  enter,  the 
very  same  doctrine,  and  the  very  same  creed,  which  it 
brought  over  from  England  and  Holland.  The  denomi¬ 
nations  with  which  it  has  most  affinity,  and  with  which  it 
will  come  into  nearest  contact,  are  themselves  built 
upon  the  Calvinistic  foundation.  The  several  Presbyter¬ 
ian  bodies  have  become  strong  and  consolidated  in  those 
regions  by  their  persevering  attachment  to  their  historical 
svmbols.  If  they  are  true  to  Christ  and  the  New  Testa- 

%j  «y 

ment,  they  will  welcome,  and  not  repel,  all  who  stand  up¬ 
on  the  same  doctrinal  platform  with  themselves.  The 
merely  secondary  matter  of  polity  will  never,  in  the  long 
run,  alienate  denominations  who  are  one  in  doctrine,  and 

*  We  use  this  word  advisedly.  We  feel  a  deep  and  warm  affection 
towards  that  large  denomination  which  goes  everywhere  preaching  the 
doctrine  of  man’s  guilt,  and  his  forgiveness  through  atoning  blood. 


350 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


in  the  experimental  consciousness  that  grows  out  of  doc¬ 
trine.  Standing  firm  upon  the  creed  of  Owen  and  Robin¬ 
son,  and  equally  firm  upon  the  polity  of  Owen  and  Robin¬ 
son,  who  can  doubt  that  an  advancing  career  is  in  reserve 
for  the  Congregational  churches  ?  Thorough  orthodoxy 
(which  means  thorough  accuracy)  in  the  technical  state¬ 
ment,  in  friendly  alliance  with  the  utmost  freedom  and 
simplicity  in  the  political  structure — the  longest  and  firm¬ 
est  of  roots  bursting  out  into  the  brightest  and  most  deli- 
cate  of  flowers — this  will  be  a  phase  of  Christianity  that 
must  attract  and  influence.  It  lies  within  the  province  of 
Congregationalism  to  originate  and  exemplify  a  style  of 
Christianity  that  will  be  somewhat  unique  in  the  history 
of  the  church.  Exactitude  of  doctrine  has  sometimes 
been  associated,  in  ecclesiastical  history,  with  rigid  and 
stately  forms  of  polity.  The  muscle  has  been  enveloped 
in  tissues  as  tough  and  fibrous  as  itself.  It  is  now  com- 
petent  for  the  most  republican  of  the  polities  to  clothe 
the  bone  and  sinew  in  the  warm  and  flexile  flesh  ;  to  ex¬ 
hibit  the  most  profound  and  scientific  type  of  truth  in  the 
most  simple  form  of  church  government,  and  the  most 
ethereal  style  of  church  life.  In  so  doing,  Congregation¬ 
alism  will  find  a  welcome  from  all  the  true  friends  of 
Christ,  the  world  over.  And  particularly  will  it  be  wel¬ 
comed  by  that  large  portion  of  evangelical  Christendom 
to  whom  the  theology  of  Augustine  and  Calvin  is  precious 
as  the  apple  of  the  eye.  There  can  be  no  collision  and 
no  hostile  rivalry  between  denominations  that  see  eye  to 
eye  in  respect  to  an  exact  and  a  living  orthodoxy.  How 

was  it  in  the  davs  when  the  Reformers  on  the  Continent 

*/ 

fraternized  with  the  Reformers  in  the  British  Islands? 
There  was  much  more  difference  between  the  Presbyter¬ 
ianism  of  Geneva  and  the  Episcopacy  of  London,  than 
there  is  between  the  Presbyterianism  of  the  Middle  and 


SYMBOLS  AXD  COXGKEGATIONALISM. 


351 


Southern  States,  and  the  Congregationalism  of  Rew  Eng¬ 
land.  Yet  how  respectful  was  the  feeling  of  Richard 
Hooker,  the  great  defender  of  prelacy,  towards  John  Cal¬ 
vin.  Read  the  Zurich  Letters,  and  see  how  deep  was  the. 
interest  which  the  English  prelates  took  in  the  prosperity 
of  the  Swiss  pastors.  And  yet  there  was  no  sacrifice  of 
principle,  or  of  conviction,  upon  either  side,  even  in  re¬ 
gard  to  polity.  Eishops  GfrindaRand  Jewell  will  not  be 
called  lax  Episcopalians.  John  Calvin  and  Henry  Bullin- 
ger  will  not  be  regarded  as  indifferent  Presbyterians. 
Each  stood  firm  upon  his  own  ecclesiastical  position,  and 
each  labored,  in  every  legitimate  manner,  for  the  upbuild¬ 
ing  of  the  particular  branch  of  Christ’s  church  with  which 
birth,  and  education,  and  personal  conviction  had  con¬ 
nected  him.  But  both  knew  that  there  is  a  higher,  a 
more  august  thing  than  the  external  regimen  of  the  visi- 
ble  church.  Both  felt  the  mutual  respect,  and  mutual 
fellowship,  which  springs  out  of  a  common  reception  of  a 
common  type  of  doctrine. 

And  so  will  it  be  upon  the  wider  arena  of  denomina¬ 
tional  life  and  action.  By  identifying  itself,  always  and 
everywhere,  with  that  theological  system  whose  most  fit- 
ing  material  symbol  is  Plymouth  rock,  while  vet  it  main- 
tains,  always  and  everywhere,  that  simple  and  spiritual¬ 
izing  form  of  polity  which  is  in  such  perfect  keeping  with 
the  doctrine  which  it  enshrines ;  by  uniting  the  firmness 

y  d  O 

and  solidity  of  the  oecumenical  symbol  with  the  freedom 

*j  d 

and  flexibility  of  the  local  church,  Congregationalism  will 
receive  the  “  God  speed  ”  of  the  Church  universal.  Go 
where  it  may,  upon  this  continent  or  upon  other  conti¬ 
nents,  it  will  hear  from  the  lips  of  the  worn  and  weary 
penitent,  the  warm  words  of  the  hymn  : 

“Brethren  !  where  your  altar  burns, 

Oh  !  receive  me  into  rest.” 


352 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


We  have  thus,  Brethren  and  Fathers,  considered  some 
of  the  reasons  for  the  cultivation,  amonsj  ourselves,  of  a 
stronger  symbolical  feeling,  and  a  bolder  confidence  in 
creed-statements.  In  so  doing,  we  are  well  aware  that  we 
tread  upon  difficult  ground.  In  the  minds  of  some,  the 
symbol  has  come  to  be  associated  with  rigid,  and  more  or 
less  monarchical  forms  of  church  polity.  The  adoption 
of  an  exact  denominational  creed  seems  to  carry  with  it 
the  renunciation  of  Congregational  freedom,  and  to  pave 
the  way  for  judicatures,  and  a  central  government  in  the 
church. 

But  there  is  no  necessary  connection  between  strict 
doctrine  and  high-church  polity.  Each  subject  stands,  or 
falls,  upon  its  own  merits.  Iso  one  will  deny  that  John 
Owen  was  as  thorough  a  Calvinist  as  ever  drew  breath; 
and  that  he  was  as  thorough  a  Congregationalist  is  equally 
certain.  What  hinders  any  denomination  from  being  in¬ 
spired  with  the  very  spirit  of  Dort  and  Westminster,  so 
far  as  doctrine  is  concerned,  while  yet  it  cleaves  to  the 
most  democratic  republicanism  in  polity  ? 

For  this  matter  of  doctrine  is  an  inward  conviction,  a 
voluntary  adoption,  if  it  is  anything  at  all.  The  denomi¬ 
national  symbol  is  not  to  be  forced  upon  a  denomination. 
It  cannot  be.  It  must  be  the  free  act,  the  self-chosen 
creed,  of  the  churches.  Hence  we  have  spoken  of  a  sym¬ 
bolical  feeling ,  a  denominational  confidence  and  respect 
towards  creeds,  rather  than  of  any  particular  measure,  or 
method,  by  which  a  symbol  might  be  cunningly  insinuated 
into  a  church,  or  sprung  upon  it  as  a  surprise.  That 
which  is  inward  and  spiritual  must  first  exist,  in  order  to 
that  which  is  outward  and  formal.  While,  therefore,  we 
would  not,  if  we  could,  impose  and  inflict  a  creed  upon 
any  unwilling  church,  we  confess  that  we  would,  if  we 
could,  inspire  every  church  upon  the  glo'te  with  an  in- 


SYMBOLS  AND  CONGREGATIONALISM. 


353 


telligent  and  cordial  affection  for  that  “  form  of  sound 
words,”  around  which  the  snblimest  recollections  of  the 
church  militant  have  clustered,  and  out  of  which  its 
purest  and  best  religious  experience  has  sprung. 

To  deepen  a  feeling  which  already  exists  in  Congrega¬ 
tionalism  ;  to  strengthen  a  confidence  which  has  never 
died  out,  has  been  the  purpose  of  these  remarks. 
Whether  this  feeling  and  confidence  should  once  more 
give  itself  expression  in  the  formal  action  of  the  denomi¬ 
nation  is  a  question  that  will  be  answered  variously.  But 
will  not  all  agree  that  the  action  of  the  denomination  at 
Cambridge,  and  Boston,  and  Saybrook,  has  never  been 
repudiated  ‘  that  if  Congregationalism  has  any  corporate 
existence,  and  any  organic  life,  by  which  it  maintains  its 
identity  from  generation  to  generation,  it  is  still  com- 
mitted  to  the  symbols  that  were  then  and  there  made 
public.  Shall  we  not  do  well,  then,  to  cherish  the  recol¬ 
lection  of  what  was  done  when  the  foundations  of  the 
Puritan  church  were  laid  in  this  Western  world?  Asso¬ 
ciated  and  assembled,  as  we  are,  to  collect  and  preserve 
the  memorials  of  our  denominational  history,  ought  we 
not,  more  than  ever,  to  think  of,  and  prize,  that  system  of 
truth  which  has  made  us  historic,  which  has  given  us  our 
position  among  the  churches  of  Christ  in  the  world,  which 
is  the  secret  of  our  active  and  tenacious  vitality,  and  with¬ 
out  which  wre  should  long  ago  have  crumbled  and  disap¬ 
peared  like  the  seven  churches  of  Asia  ? 


CLEEICAL  EDUCATION* 


“  How  shall  they  preach,  except  they  be  sent  ?  ”  is  the 
concluding  question,  in  a  series  of  interrogatories  designed 
to  show  that  Christianity,  as  a  universal  religion,  should 
obtain  a  universal  proclamation.  The  substance  of  this 
religion,  St.  Paul  affirms  to  be,  simple  faith  in  the  work 
of  Christ.  “  If  thou  shalt  confess  with  thy  mouth  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  shalt  believe  in  thine  heart  that  God  hath 
raised  him  from  the  dead  ” — if  thou  shalt  simply  and 
cordially  appropriate  what  is  involved  in  that  death— 
“thou  shalt  be  saved.”  The  range  of  this  religion,  he 
teaches,  is  the  whole  world  of  mankind.  “  There  is  no 
difference  between  the  Jew  and  the  Greek  ;  for  the  same 
Lord  over  all  is  rich  unto  all  that  call  upon  him.  For 
whosoever  shall  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
saved.”  These  two  facts  being  established,  it  follows  im¬ 
mediately  that  this  religion,  so  simple  in  its  nature,  and  so 
catholic  in  its  aim,  should  be  preached  to  every  human 
being.  AY  ere  Christianity  complicated  and  difficult  to  be 
understood  and  complied  with,  or  were  it  designed  for 
only  a  particular  people  or  class  of  mankind,  the  contrary 
inference  would  be  drawn.  The  proclamation  of  an  ab¬ 
struse  or  esoteric  truth  should  be  cautious  and  circumspect. 


*A  discourse  before  the  American  Education  Society,  May  28,  1855. 


356 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


There  should  be  initiation,  and  secret  instruction,  in  case 
the  religion  is  complex  and  sectarian.  But  when,  as  in 
the  instance  of  the  Christian  religion,  the  essential  truth 
of  a  system  is  simple  as  childhood,  and  to  be  received  by 
a  child’s  act,  and  when  it  is  designed  for  all  ages,  sexes, 
conditions,  classes,  and  nationalities  of  mankind,  its  pro¬ 
mulgation  ought  to  be  as  loud  as  thunder  and  free  as  the 
winds.  The  sound  of  it  should  go  out  through  all  the 
earth,  and  its  utterance  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

But  the  question  implies  that  the  Christian  religion  is 
not  self -proclaiming.  As  a  revelation  of  truth,  it  had 
been  furnished  solely  by  God.  As  a  plan  and  work  of 
redemption,  there  had  been  no  co-operation  of  man.  The 
Deity  imparted  a  body  of  knowledge,  made  an  atonement 
for  sin,  and  poured  out  supernatural  influences,  by  himself 
alone  ;  and  in  reference  to  all  this  substance  and  founda¬ 
tion,  man  was  neither  taken  into  counsel  nor  permitted  to 
assist.  As  truth  and  as  fact,  Christianity  originated  from 
another  sphere  than  the  human,  and  is  the  pure  product 
and  gift  and  work  of  God  alone. 

Yet,  though  having  such  a  transcendent  origin,  and  being 
so  perfect  in  its  nature,  its  Author  made  no  supernatural 
provision  for  its  spread  among  the  nations  and  down  the 
ages.  Under  the  arrangements  of  Providence,  this  super¬ 
natural  religion  is  as  dependent  upon  the  agency  of  man, 
for  its  extension,  as  if  it  were  a  merely  human  production. 
The  heavenly  treasure  is  committed  to  earthen  vessels  ; 
and  Christianity,  though  a  heaven-derived  and  perfect 
system,  is  compelled  by  its  great  Author  to  rely  for  its 
diffusion  among  mankind  upon  the  very  same  contingen¬ 
cies  by  which  literatures,  sciences,  arts,  and  all  earth-born 
knowledges,  are  disseminated  and  perpetuated.  God 
might  have  sent  twelve  legions  of  angels  to  proclaim  the 
truth,  with  their  eves  of  light  and  tongues  of  flame.  He 


CLEEICAL  EDUCATION. 


357 


might  nave  continued  to  train  up  preachers  to  the  end  of 
time,  by  his  own  direct  inspiration  and  personal  instruc¬ 
tions,  as  he  did  in  the  beginning.  lie  might  have  intrust¬ 
ed  the  heavenlv  treasure  to  a  celestial  vessel  and  agent. 

tj  O 

But  he  did  not.  lie  left  this  wonderful  system  of  truth, 
which  he  had  been  slowly  revealing  for  four  thousand 
years,  by  prophecy,  by  type,  by  miracle,  by  institute  and 
dispensation,  and  which  he  finally  crowned  and  perfected 
by  the  incarnation  of  his  Son :  he  left  this  wonderful  re- 
ligion,  thus  originated  and  constructed,  to  be  diffused 
among  the  race  for  whose  benefit  it  had  come  into  exist- 
ence  by  their  feeble  and  unreliable  agency.  It  looks  as 
if  the  Architect  were  deserting  his  work  ;  as  if  this  stupen¬ 
dous  plan,  originating  in  the  counsels  of  eternity,  and 
moving  forward  through  some  centuries  of  time  with 
energy  and  success,  were  suddenly  dismissed  to  a  lame  and 
impotent  conclusion.  As  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  them¬ 
selves,  in  the  early  ages  of  the  church,  were  left  floating 
about  on  a  few  manuscripts,  like  the  future  legislator  in 
the  ark  of  rushes  on  the  uSTile,  so  that,  as  we  look  back,  we 
wonder  that  the  archives  of  our  faith  were  preserved  at  all 
in  those  ages  of  fire  and  blood  and  vapor  of  smoke,  so  has 
the  Christian  religion  been  committed  to  an  agency,  in 
itself  considered,  utterly  feeble  and  totally  unreliable,  and 
as  we  look  back  over  the  history  of  Christianity,  we  won¬ 
der  that  the  world  has  known  and  felt  so  much  of  its  in¬ 
fluence  as  it  has.  The  doctrines  of  a  special  divine  influ¬ 
ence,  and  a  special  superintending  Providence,  alone, 
dispel  our  wonder  in  each  of  these  instances.  The  human 
agent  worked,  and  worked  well,  notwithstanding  his  in¬ 
trinsic  unfitness  and  unreliableness,  because  God  worked 
in  him  to  will  and  to  do.  The  events  and  contingencies 
of  this  earthly  state,  the  adverse  events  and  unexpected 
contingencies  of  human  history,  conspired  to  the  exten- 


358 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


sion  of  the  Christian  religion,  instead  of  its  overthrow, 
because  a  divine  Arm  was  outstretched  to  uphold  and 
guide  the  vessel  through  the  billows. 

These  reflections,  suggested  b}^  the  interrogatory  of  St. 
Paul,  lead  to  the  consideration  of  some  reasons  why  the 
Church  should  address  itself  to  the  particular  worh  of 
Clerical  Training  and  Education. 

1.  The  first  reason  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  unless  the 
churches  devote  their  energies  and  means  to  this  special 
object,  their  clergy  will  not  be  a  sufficiently  numerous 
profession. 

It  is  never  safe,  nor  prudent,  to  rely  upon  the  operation 
of  extraordinary  causes,  in  laying  a  plan  for  permanent 
operations.  Inducements  and  impulses  need  to  be  em¬ 
ployed,  to  elicit  the  latent  disposition  and  power,  other¬ 
wise  this  latency  will  continue  to  slumber.  Hence  the 
church  within  its  own  sphere,  like  the  world  within  its, 
must  make  use  of  average  materials,  and  ordinary  appli¬ 
ances,  in  carrying  forward  the  enterprise  that  has  been 
committed  to  it.  The  common  piety  of  a  regenerated 
man,  and  not  the  uncommon  holiness  of  a  seraph,  is  the 
material  which  the  church  should  take  and  mould  into  the 
earthen  vessels  that  are  to  hold  the  treasure.  The  churches 
cannot,  wisely  or  successfully,  insist  upon  a  degree  of 
piety,  in  the  Christian  young  men  of  this  age  or  of  any 
age,  so  intense  and  angelic  as  to  carry  them  over  all  ob¬ 
stacles,  and  without  any  stimulus  or  encouragement,  into 
the  Christian  ministry.  Means  and  facilities  for  clerical 
education  wflll  never  be  rendered  unnecessary,  by  a  zeal 
like  that  of  some  few  missionaries,  in  some  few  periods  of 
church  history,  who  penetrated  heathenism  alone  and  un¬ 
assisted,  and  who  laid  down  and  died  in  the  beginning  of 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


359 


their  career;  the  zeal  of  God’s  house  having  literally 
eaten  them  up.  Extremes  are  dangerous,  and  those  are 
not  the  best  periods  in  the  history  of  the  church,  when 
remarkable  apathy  in  the  mass  of  Christians  was  both 
supplemented  and  shamed  by  the  intense  self-martyrdom 
of  a  few  individuals.  For  the  church  to  coldly  look  on} 
while  the  youthful  warrior  fights  his  way  through  a  con¬ 
flict  which  a  little  self-denial  on  the  part  of  his  fellow- 
Christians  might  have  spared  him,  is  unwise  and  unchris¬ 
tian.  All  that  we  should  expect  or  demand,  in  candidates 
for  the  ministry,  is  a  grade  and  type  of  Christian  charac¬ 
ter  that  originates  in  the  bosom  of  the  church  itself,  pos¬ 
sesses  the  average  excellencies  and  deficiencies,  and  needs 
the  stimulus  and  purification  of  ordinary  means  and  ap¬ 
pliances. 

Some  thirty  or  forty  years  ago,  that  remarkable  and  in- 

d  d  *  C>  ' 

teresting  man,  Edward  Irving,  was  called  to  preach  a  ser¬ 
mon  before  the  London  Missionary  Society.  Seizing 
rankly  upon  the  example  of  our  Lord,  who  sent  out  the 
seventy  without  purse  or  scrip,  and  forgetting  the  altered 
circumstances  of  both  the  church  and  the  world,  and  par¬ 
ticularly  the  absence  of  those  miraculous  gifts  with  which 
those  first  missionaries  were  endowed,  he  deduced  the 
doctrine,  that  the  whole  modern  missionary  movement 
ought  to  be  left  to  the  spontaneous,  unorganized,  unaided 
energy  and  vehemence  of  the  individual  Christian  mind. 

w « 

On  bis  scheme,  the  church  had  a  right  to  demand  that 
the  missionary,  in  devotedness  and  zeal  for  God,  tower 
high  above  the  level  of  clerical  character ;  that  the  piety 
of  the  herald  of  the  cross  should  be  of  such  an  extraordi¬ 
nary  type,  that  it  would  bear  the  missionary,  as  on  the 
wings  of  the  wind,  over  land  and  sea,  through  all  species 
of  populations,  and  inspire  him  with  a  pentecostal  energy 
bv  which  he  should  electrify  and  overcome  the  masses  of 


360 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


heathenism.  He  announced  this  theory  with  a  wonderful 
boldness  and  energy,  and  threw  over  it,  and  all  about  it; 
the  sheen  and  the  splendor  of  a  most  affluent  imagination, 
and  a  most  gorgeous  rhetoric,  and  set  the  whole  all  aglow 
with  the  fire  of  an  undoubted  zeal  for  God  and  human 
salvation. 

But  no  wise  man,  from  that  day  to  this,  has  supposed 
that  Christian  missions  can  be  successfully  carried  forward 
on  such  a  scheme.  The  church  cannot  rely  upon  the  unu¬ 
sual  in  feeling,  and  the  extraordinary  in  character,  because, 
if  for  no  other  reason,  it  is  not  to  be  found  in  sufficient 
abundance  for  working  purposes.  It  must  rely  upon  an 
average  piety,  and  fill  out  what  is  lacking,  by  wise  and 
judicious  means  and  appliances. 

It  is,  consequently,  not  to  be  expected,  that  the  attention 
of  Christian  young  men,  in  sufficient  numbers,  will  be 
turned  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  unless  facilities  are 
afforded  by  the  church  for  access  to  this  work.  A  few 

c / 

men,  of  remarkable  holiness  and  zeal,  might  perhaps  have 
crowded  and  forced  their  wav  into  ministerial  life,  by 
individual  and  unaided  effort;  but  the  greater  portion  of 
the  present  generation  of  clergymen,  who  are  now  actually 
preaching  the  word,  would  not  be  so  doing,  if  the  church 
had  not,  by  its  organizations  and  charitable  foundations, 
and  literary  and  theological  institutions,  thrown  up  a  high¬ 
way  into  the  Christian  ministry,  and  wooed  them  on  into 
it.  And  this  fact  is  not  specially  derogatory  to  the  cleri¬ 
cal  profession.  It  implies,  indeed,  that  the  clerical  mind 
is  not  yet  filled  with  a  cherub’s  knowledge  of  eternal 
things,  and  a  seraph’s  love  for  them.  But  neither  is  the 
church  at  large.  Both  clergy  and  laity  have  a  common 
type  of  piety,  which,  in  each  case  alike,  requires  aids, 
and  encouragements,  and  stimulants,  and  in  neithei 
case,  alike,  can  be  rightfully  called  upon  to  exercise  a 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


361 


superhuman  virtue,  that  the  other  may  exercise  none  at 
all. 

The  Christian  young  man,  therefore,  at  certain  turning- 
points  in  his  educational  career,  needs  an  impulse  to  carry 
him  over  into  the  ministry.  Ilis  mind  is  balancing;  and 
if,  in  this  mental  state,  he  sees  the  church  indifferent  and 
apathetic,  in  reference  to  that  ^self-denying  profession 
whose  claims  he  is  weighing,  he  will,  in  too  many  instances, 
conclude  that  a  layman’s  position  is  not  incompatible  with 
his  soul’s  salvation. 

If,  as  he  is  hesitating  in  respect  to  the  course  he  should 
pursue,  he  casts  his  eye  forward,  and  sees  that  even  the 
years  of  proposed  professional  study  will  be  overhung,  not 
merely  with  poverty  but  increasing  embarrassments,  and 
then  usher  him  into  the  most  anxious  and  laborious  and 
ill-paid  of  occupations ;  if  he  sees  that  this  obstacle,  in  the 
outset,  is  owing  to  the  neglect,  or  indifference,  of  that  very 
Christian  church  to  whose  service  he  proposes  to  devote 
himself,  what  is  more  natural  than  that,  in  a  majority  of 
cases,  the  professedly  and  really  pious  young  man  slides 
down  to  a  lower  level  of  character  and  feeling,  and  enters 
upon  some  other  course  of  life  and  labor?  But  if,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  he  looks  off  in  this  hour  of  hesitation,  he 
sees  that  the  wise  and  good,  of  the  past  and  the  present, 
have  smoothed  the  pathway  to  the  laborious  but  noble 
field  of  clerical  effort,  and,  by  their  institutions  and  schol¬ 
arships,  and  benevolent  societies,  and  faculties  of  instruc¬ 
tion,  and  libraries  of  books,  have  made  all  things  ready  to 
his  hand,  and  have  placed  a  professional  training  within 
his  reach  ;  if,  we  say,  all  this  preparation  and  emphatic 
invitation,  on  the  part  of  the  churches,  strike  the  mind  of 
the  hesitating  young  man  at  this  crisis  in  his  history,  how 
very  few  truly  religious  young  men  would  or  could  find 

excuses  for  declining  the  clerical  profession. 

16 


362 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


In  so  far,  therefore,  as  the  church  addresses  itself  to  the 
work  of  raising  up  a  ministry,  by  furnishing  ample  means 
and  apparatus  for  a  professional  education,  does  it  take 
the  surest  method  of  securing  a  numerous  clergy ;  a  pro¬ 
fession  sufficiently  well  stocked  to  meet  the  ever-increasing 
demand,  in  this  country  and  age,  for  religious  teachers. 
And,  just  in  proportion  as  it  leaves  the  pathway  to  min¬ 
isterial  life  full  of  obstructions,  by  neglecting  to  pro¬ 
vide  the  necessary  facilities  for  clerical  education,  will  it 
lose  the  service  of  a  great  number,  who,  under  these 
slight  outward  influences  and  impulses  from  benevolent 
assistance,  would  have  entered  the  ministry,  and  have 
proved  good  and  faithful  laborers  in  the  vineyard  of  the 
Lord. 

It  may  be,  and  has  been,  urged  as  an  objection  to  this 
multiplication  of  facilities  for  entrance  into  the  ministry, 
that  the  clerical  profession  will  become  secularized  by  the 
admission  of  large  numbers  who  are  unwilling  to  exercise 
that  fair  and  acknowledged  degree  of  self-denial  which  is 
required  in  a  true  minister  of  Jesus  Christ.  There  is, 
however,  little  danger  under  the  voluntary  system  of  cler- 
ical  support,  that  this  will  be  the  case.  Were  there  in 
this  country  a  rich  and  powerful  ecclesiastical  establish¬ 
ment,  to  provide  amply  for  the  wants  of  the  incumbents 
of  the  sacred  office  when  they  enter  it,  there  might,  per¬ 
haps,  be  some  need  of  rendering  the  access  to  the  profes¬ 
sion  as  difficult  as  possible.  But  when,  as  is  the  case  in 
this  country,  the  clergyman,  immediately  on  leaving  his 
professional  course,  enters  upon  a  career  for  life  of  the 
most  trying  and  self-sacrificing  character,  surely  the  objec¬ 
tion  above-mentioned  loses  all  its  force.  The  few  brief 
years  of  preparatory  study  ought,  therefore,  to  be  rendered 
as  pleasant  and  free  from  anxiety  as  possible,  in  order  that 
the  mind  may  enter,  with  boldness,  and  buoyancy,  and 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


363 


courage,  upon  that  ministerial  life  which  becomes  more 
and  more  solemn,  and  more  and  more  weighty,  to  the  end 
of  it.  The  church  need  be  under  no  concern  lest,  by  a 
full  educational  treasury,  and  the  multiplication  of  endow¬ 
ments  and  scholarships,  by  the  accumulation  of  books  and 
all  the  means  of  clerical  training,  it  shall  be  instrumental 
of  introducing  too  many  men  into  the  Christian  ministiy. 
There  is  a  work  for  life  to  follow  the  professional  course 
that  will  be  a  sufficient  check  upon  any  apprehended  glut 
of  clergymen.  The  few  years  of  education  are  soon  passed, 
and  the  long,  long  years  of  service  begin.  Perhaps  there 
is  no  transition  more  marked  than  that  from  the  college 
and  professional  school  into  the  parish.  The  youthful 
mind  has  been  spending  a  decennium  in  the  still  air  of 
delightful  studies,  under  the  guidance  of  accomplished 
teachers,  and  in  association  with  kindred  youthful  minds. 
It  has  been  free  from  care.  It  has  felt  only  those  private 
responsibilities,  which  relate  to  the  keeping  of  one’s  own 
heart,  and  the  education  of  one’s  own  mind.  But  now 
it  passes  into  public  life.  The  youthful  disciple  becomes 
a  religious  teacher,  is  laden  with  the  cares  and  responsi¬ 
bilities  of  a  great  profession,  and  finds  that  the  days  of 
spirited  and  hopeful  self-education  are  passed,  and  the 
days  of  persevering,  arduous  toil  for  others  have  come. 
Looking  at  this  transition  from  a  merely  human  point  of 
view,  there  is  none  more  fitted  to  deter.  Were  there  no 
higher  considerations  of  usefulness  to  man  and  of  glory  to 
God,  how  many  a  youthful  mind  would  start  back  at  the 
change,  and  even  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  profession, 
return  to  the  more  inviting*  fields  of  literature  and  author- 
ship,  or  the  more  dazzling  and  exciting  arenas  of  the  bar 
and  the  senate-house.  All  that  Wordsworth  tells  us  of 
the  passage  from  the  early  and  romantic  age  of  human 
life,  to  the  sober  gray  realism  of  its  later  periods,  applies, 


364 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


with  very  deep  truth  and  force,  to  the  transition  from  the 
days  of  professional  training,  to  the  days  of  professional 
toil.  So  far  as  this  world  is  concerned,  the  journey  is  ever 
“  farther  from  the  East,”  and  the  light  fades  more  and 
more  into  that  of  “  common  day.” 

In  the  great  and  toilsome  work,  then,  which  is  to  follow 
the  professional  course,  and  which  must  he  performed 
with  no  assistance  from  institutions  and  establishments,  but 
solely  in  self-denial,  and  faith,  and  prayer ;  in  the  weight 
and  solemnity  of  the  ministerial  profession  itself,  we  find 
the  check  needed  to  prevent  the  indolent,  the  ambitious, 
and  the  irreligious,  from  availing  themselves  of  the  intro- 
ductory  facilities  of  the  professional  course. 

Let,  then,  the  church,  by  making  the  avenue  to  ministe¬ 
rial  labor  as  broad  and  pleasant  as  possible,  while  it  leaves 
the  labor  itself  as  toilsome  and  as  self-denying  as  God 
in  his  providence  has  seen  fit  to  constitute  it,  elicit  the 
greatest  possible  amount  of  clerical  talent,  get  it  committed 
to  the  clerical  profession,  and  thus  train  up  the  greatest 
possible  number  of  clergymen. 

2.  The  second  reason  why  the  church  should  address 
itself  to  the  special  work  of  ministerial  education,  is  found 
in  the  fact,  that  without  such  patronage  and  assistance  the 
ministry  will  not  be  a  sufficiently  learned  profession.  We 
shall  here  employ  the  term  “learning”  in  its  widest  sig¬ 
nification,  and  under  this  head  shall  discuss  several  topics, 
some  of  which  pertain  to  the  literary,  aud  some  of  them 
to  the  theological  education  of  the  clergyman. 

Taking  up,  in  the  first  place,  the  conditions  of  learning, 
we  shall  see  the  need  of  a  special  attention  and  assistance 
on  the  part  of  the  churches.  Learning  depends  upon 
these  three  conditions :  first,  upon  freedom  from  mental 
distraction  and  task-work,  during  the  period  of  study ; 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


365 


secondly,  upon  thorough  teachers  and  the  discipline  of 
a  curriculum ;  and,  thirdly,  upon  access  to  large  libra¬ 
ries. 

During  the  period  of  study,  the  mind  requires  to  be 
calm  and  unembarrassed,  in  order  that  it  may  give  its 
powers  a  single  direction  and  concentrate  them  upon 
a  single  point.  The  whirl  of  business,  and  the  excitement 
of  gay  life  are  unfavorable  to  scholarship,  even  in  case 
there  be  no  exacting  demands  made  upon  the  student’s 
mind  and  time.  Hence,  the  cloister  life  of  the  middle 
ages  was  far  less  injurious  to  the  scholarship  of  that 
period,  than  it  was  to  its  piety.  In  all  ages,  tranquil¬ 
lity  and  serenity  have  been  found  favorable  to  culture, 
even  though  other  interests  may  have  suffered  from  a 
life  of  undue  seclusion. 

But  when,  in  addition  to  the  lack  of  scholastic  retire¬ 
ment  during  the  years  of  professional  training,  there 
is  added  the  laborious  occupation  of  the  mind  in  other 
pursuits  than  those  of  study  and  self-discipline,  great 
injury  must  result  to  the  ultimate  professional  power  and 
stamina  of  the  individual.  He,  who  is  compelled  to  earn 
his  daily  bread  while  laying  the  foundations  upon  which 
the  future  structure  of  ministerial  labor  is  to  be  reared, 
will  find,  to  his  regret,  when  he  comes  to  perform  that 
life-ion o;  service,  and  feel  that  unintermittent  draught 
upon  his  ideas,  that  he  was  obliged  to  be  hasty  and 
superficial  at  a  point,  where,  of  all,  there  is  need  of 
slowness  and  thoroughness.  The  human  mind  cannot 
well  do  two  things  at  once,  and,  therefore,  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  the  course  of  clerical  education, 
there  ought  to  be  secured  to  the  rising  ministry,  the 
greatest  possible  freedom  from  the  excitement  of  gay  and 
secular  life,  and  the  exactions  of  poverty.  Only  in  aca¬ 
demical  quiet  and  unembarrassed  finances,  can  the  foun- 


366 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


dations  of  a  broad,  deep,  and  powerful  clerical  scholar¬ 
ship  he  laid. 

Again,  the  influence  of  a  faculty  and  a  curriculum  is 
needed,  in  order  to  the  existence  of  a  learned  ministry. 
Doubtless  much  thorough  discipline  in  a  single  direction, 
and  with  respect  to  a  single  topic,  may  be  obtained  from 
a  single  strong  and  original  mind.  The  minds  that  were 
trained  in  the  last  century,  in  the  study-chambers  of  the 

l  V  t 

distinguished  diwines  of  Xew  England,  were  yery  able  in 
regard  to  their  specialty,  or  that  of  their  teacher.  They 
had  their  forte,  and  they  had  their  foible.  Eor  it  is 

c. 

impossible  that  a  single  mind  should  be  able  to  impart 
the  entire  encyclopaedic  knowledge  and  discipline  of  a 
faculty  of  learned  men.  each  of  whom  deyotes  himself  to 
a  particular  department,  while  he  co-works  with  his  asso¬ 
ciates.  It  is  impossible  that  the  professional  culture 
which  flows  out  from  a  single  fountain,  however  ebulli¬ 
ent,  should  exhibit  the  powerful  and  broad  current  that 
results  from  the  union  of  head-waters.  It  was  for  this 
reason  that  the  churches  were  compelled,  so  soon  as  the 
colleges  of  the  land  ceased  to  impart  that  clerical  train- 
in  for  the  sake  of  which  they  were  flrst  founded,  to 
establish  the  ecclesiastical  professional  school,  and  subject 
the  rising  ministry  to  the  influence  of  a  faculty  and  a 
curriculum. 

And,  lastly,  a  learned  profession  can  live  only  in  the 
atmosphere  of  libraries.  The  influence  of  large  collec¬ 
tions  of  books,  upon  both  faculties  and  students,  is  a  sub¬ 
ject  deserving  the  increasing  attention  of  all  who  are 
interested  in  the  formation  of  a  vet  more  thorough  cul- 
ture  in  our  lively  age  and  country.  The  consciousness  of 
ignorance,  which  is  generated  by  an  exhibition  upon  the 
shelves  of  a  library  of  what  the  human  mind  has  accom- 
plished  in  the  past,  is  one  of  the  sharpest  spurs  to  person- 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


367 


al  investigation  ;  is  one  of  the  keenest  corrosives  of  intel- 
lectual  conceit  and  vain-glorying.  And  the  professional 
mind,  equally  with  the  popular,  needs  to  come  under  this 
influence  :  for  it  is  as  true  in  the  intellectual  sphere,  as  it 
is  in  the  moral,  that  he  that  humbleth  himself  shall 
be  exalted. 

These  conditions  of  thorough  scholarship  can  be  se¬ 
cured  to  the  candidate  for  the  ministrv  onlv  bv  the 
church  at  large.  The  individual  cannot  originate  and 

■A.  O 

maintain  them  for  himself,  anv  more  than  he  can  origi- 
nate  courts  of  law,  and  juries,  and  benches  of  judges. 
The  institutions  and  endowments  requisite  in  order  to  the 
very  existence  of  a  clerical  discipline  are  the  proper  care 
of  the  churches  ;  and  just  in  proportion  as  any  particular 
branch  of  the  church  fosters  or  neglects  them,  will  be  the 
strength,  or  the  weakness,  of  its  clerical  bodv. 

But  the  strength  of  this  argument,  from  the  fact  that 
the  ministry  will  not  be  a  learned  body  unless  it  is  sup¬ 
plied  with  the  conditions  of  scholarship,  is  greatly  en¬ 
hanced,  as  soon  as  we  consider  one  or  two  peculiarities 
in  the  present  state  of  the  world,  which  create  an  unusual 
necessity  for  thorough  learning  and  discipline  in  the  cleri¬ 
cal  profession.  It  is  to  this  part  of  the  plea  that  we  would 
invite  particular  attention. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  a  very  high  mental  discipline  is 
required,  at  the  present  time,  in  order  that  preaching  may 
be  simple,  plain,  and  powerful.  It  was  a  remark  of  Arch¬ 
bishop  Usher  to  the  clergy  of  his  diocese,  “  It  takes  all  our 
learning  to  be  simple.”  To  preach  plain  and  simple,  says 
Luther,  is  a  great  art.  These  statements  are  true  ones, 
though  paradoxical,  and  contrary  to  a  common  notion  re¬ 
specting  the  influence  of  learning.  It  will  however  be 
found,  that  in  proportion  as  the  human  mind  becomes  a 
profound  master  of  the  truth,  it  becomes  able  to  unfold 


368 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


and  express  it  in  such  a  manner,  that  the  wayfaring  man 
need  not  err,  and  also  in  such  a  way  that  the  cultivated 
mind  feels  the  very  same  influence  from  the  actual  verity. 
We  see  this  illustrated  in  secular  literature.  The  greatest 
minds,  in  any  department,  address  the  two  extremes  of 
human  culture,  as  well  as  all  the  intermediates.  Shaks- 
peare  is  the  poet  of  the  masses,  and  also  of  the  “  laureate 
fraternity  55  of  poets.  That  homely  sense,  which  speaks 
like  a  swain  to  the  swain,  and  that  ethereal  discourse, 
which  is  the  admiration  and  the  despair  of  the  cultivated 
reason  and  imagination,  both  alike,  flow  from  a  thorough 
apprehension  and  a  perfect  knowledge  of  man  and  of 
nature.  Lord  Bacon’s  understanding  addresses  both  the 

o 

peasant  and  the  philosopher,  because  it  grasped  what  it 
seized,  and  saw  entirely  through  what  it  looked  at.  And, 
to  come  down  to  our  own  time  and  country,  and  into  a 
department  that  more  than  any  other  is  both  practical  and 
popular,  how  powerfully  does  the  eloquence  of  Webster 
affect  all  grades  of  intelligence,  because  it  sprang,  so  uni¬ 
formly,  out  of  an  entire  mastery  of  the  subject.  In  each 
of  these  instances  there  was  learning,  in  the  sense  of  clear 
and  thorough  knowledge.  From  whatever  source  it  be 

O  o 

derived  ;  whether  from  intercourse  with  man  and  self,  or 
whether  it  is  drawn  more  immediately  from  books ;  if 
there  be  a  clear  understanding,  a  perfect  mastery,  there 
will  be  plainness ;  and  if  there  be  plainness,  there  will  be 
power. 

In  no  sphere  is  there  greater  need  of  this  learned  plain¬ 
ness  than  in  religion,  and  especially  in  no  age  more  than 
our  own.  The  jmblic  mind  is  now  distracted  by  a  variety 
of  information.  It  has  read  and  heard  too  much.  It  is 
discursive,  and  disinclined  to  ponder  upon  fundamental 
truths.  Consequently,  simplicity,  depth,  and  clearness,  are 
qualities  specially  required  in  the  public  religious  address 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


369 


of  the  day,  in  order  that  men  may  be  called  back  from 
this  wandering  over  a  large  surface,  and  induced  to  take 

O  o' 

a  descending,  instead  of  an  expatiating,  method.  Never 
did  man  more  need  to  be  brought  back  to  his  individuality, 
which  is  a  very  simple  thing,  and  to  his  few  relations  to 
God,  which  are  yet  more  simple,  than  now.  Even  good 
men  find,  upon  their  death-beds,  that  they  have  been  too 
discursive,  even  in  their  religious  study  and  experience. 
Said  a  dying  theologian,  “My  theology  is  now  reduced  to 
these  two  points,  that  I  am  a  guilty  sinner,  and  that  the 
blood  of  Christ  expiates  human  guilt.”  But  if  the  reli¬ 
gious  and  theological  mind  finds  that  it  is  unduly  inclined 
to  career  over  large  spaces,  and  examine  curiously  into 
collateral  topics,  to  the  neglect  of  the  vitalities  and  sim¬ 
plicities  of  faith,  and  of  life,  what  shall  be  said  of  that 
secular  mind,  which,  in  this  age  of  new  discoveries,  and 
vast  accumulations  of  facts,  roams  over  all  this  oceanic 
expanse,  but  finds  no  time  for  soundings  ? 

In  this  connection,  is  it  not  natural  to  query,  whether 
even  the  mind  of  the  church  has  not  been  too  much  dis¬ 
tracted  by  that  large  and  important  class  of  subjects  which 
fall  within  the  sphere  of  Ethics,  as  distinguished  from 
that  of  Christianity?  Whether  the  whole  great  subject 
of  Reform  has  not  been  made  to  yield  up  such  a  mass  of 
topics,  and  such  an  influx  of  ideas  and  sentiments,  as  to 
deluge  the  mind,  and  leave  no  room  for  the  distinctively 
religious  topics  of  sin  and  guilt,  of  atonement  and  regen¬ 
eration,  of  faith  and  repentance,  of  hope  and  of  love  ? 
Has  not  this  variety  of  topics  and  of  information,  drawn 
from  the  ethical  rather  than  the  evangelical  domain, 
brought  the  public  mind  into  such  a  confused  condition, 
that  it  needs,  more  than  ever,  to  be  brought  back  to  the 
few  and  simple  truths  of  the  gospel  and  godliness? 

But  how  is  this  to  be  done  ?  Not  by  mere  fault-finding, 
16* 


370 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


and  moaning  over  this  unfavorable  state  of  the  case,  but 
by  a  cheerful,  manlike,  and  powerful  method.  The  Chris¬ 
tian  religion  does  not  whine  over  human  nature.  Its 
meekness  and  sorrow  are  not  pusillanimity,  and,  in  the 
phrase  of  Thomas  Paine,  “the  spirit  of  a  spaniel.”  The 
Lamb  of  God  is  also  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah;  and 
while  Christianity,  with  a  yearning  love  for  human  wel- 
fare,  utters  its  tender :  “  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  are 
weary  and  heavy  laden,”  it  also  utters  its  high  and  au¬ 
thoritative  :  “  He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned.”  A 
calm,  uncomplaining,  and  commanding  tone,  should  there¬ 
fore  ever  be  preserved  by  the  Christian  ministry,  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  wavwardness  and  self-iomorance  of  the 
generations  of  men. 

Hot,  then,  by  lamentations  over  the  present,  and  fore¬ 
bodings  in  reference  to  the  future,  but  by  such  a  clear, 
bold,  and  penetrating  statement  of  the  truth  that  slays,  and 
the  truth  that  makes  alive,  is  the  altered  mood  and*  ten¬ 
dency  to  be  brought  about  in  the  public  mind.  TThen  the 
“  commandment  ”  shall  “  come,”  with  clearness,  and  plain¬ 
ness,  and  power,  all  these  secondary  truths,  now  unduly 
occupying  the  attention,  will,  of  themselves,  fall  back  into 
their  proper  places,  in  the  thought  and  feeling  of  both  the 
church  and  congregation. 

But  this  implies  no  slender  discipline  of  head  and  heart 
in  the  clergyman.  It  requires  a  most  learned,  and  a  most 
spiritual  mind ;  a  clergy  full  of  evangelical  ideas,  and  full 
of  vital  energies ;  the  eye  of  the  hawk,  and  the  fire  therein ; 
the  eve  of  the  dove,  and  the  love  therein.  For  the  auditor 
will  not  leave  that  animated  arena  which  is  now  engaging 
and  exacting  his  powers,  unless  there  be  a  substitute ; 
unless  another  realm,  of  vaster  solemnity  and  grandeur,  is 
opened  upon  him.  The  streets  of  Vanity  Fair  will  nevef 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


371 


be  deserted  until  eternity,  in  all  its  terrors  and  splendors, 
be  actually  made  to  dawn  upon  them.  The  hearer  will 
not  leave  his  spirited  careerings  over  universal  space,  and 
sink  a  narrow  dark  shaft  into  the  depths  of  his  own  heart, 
unless  his  religious  teacher  actually  goes  before  him,  bring¬ 
ing  him  to  consciousness,  and  interpreting  to  him  his  own 
perishing  religious  necessities. 

The  preacher,  consequently,  must  have  a  masterly  knowl¬ 
edge  of  gospel  doctrines.  lie  must  know  them  with  thor¬ 
oughness,  so  that  he  can  make  them  come  into  actual  con- 
tact  with  the  human  mind.  Then  there  will  be  an  effect. 
Bring  the  human  mind,  and  especially  the  sinful  human 
mind,  into  vivid  connection  with  the  bare,  real,  single, 
simple,  verity,  and  the  result  is  like  that  of  the  mingling 
and  war  of  the  elements  in  the  old  cosmogonies.  But  the 
power  of  thus  handling  the  few  and  simple  truths  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  rests,  so  far  as  it  rests  upon  a  human  foundation, 
upon  discipline,  deep,  clear,  and  persevering.  The  truths 
of  Christianity  are  few  in  number,  but  vast  in  their  capa¬ 
cities  and  implications.  Hence  a  profound,  rather  than  a 
discursive  talent,  is  required  in  him  who  is  to  proclaim 
them.  He  who  cannot  say  the  same  thing  in  a  variety  of 
modes  is  not  qualified  for  the  work  of  the  ministry.  He 
who  cannot  find  the  new  in  the  old  is  not  fit  to  preach  the 
gospel.  If  we  examine  the  preaching  of  the  great  and 
evangelical  divines  of  the  church,  in  all  ages,  we  find  but 
one  general  strain  and  tone.  Everything  is  tinged  with 
sin  and  redemption.  The  fall  and  the  recovery  of  the 
human  soul,  paradise  lost  and  paradise  regained,  are  the 
substance  of  their  sermonizing.  Like  some  of  the  great 
painters,  they  are  monochromatic  ;  they  employ  only 
one  principal  color.  And  yet  there  is  variety  in  this 
unity.  For  the  Christian  mind  never  tires  of  these 
repeated  lessons  from  them ,  any  more  than  it  does  of 


372 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


the  often-reiterated  teachings  of  Scripture  itself.  The 
one  subject  is  ever  new  and  fresh.  Be  it  sin,  or  be  it  re¬ 
demption,  it  is  treated  thoroughly,  and  brought  into  direct 
contact  with  the  heart  and  experience,  and  wherever  this 
is  done  there  is  freshness.  The  peculiar  interest  of  the 
public  mind  in  the  subject  of  religion,  during  an  effusion 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  does  not  spring  from  the  novelty,  or 
the  number,  of  the  truths  presented  to  it.  They  are  the 
same  old  and  simple  doctrines,  and  exhibited  with  even 
less  of  collateral  matter  than  common.  For  it  is  wonder¬ 
ful  to  observe  how  both  hearer  and  preacher,  at  such 
times,  are  dissatisfied  with  everything  that  is  not  distinct¬ 
ively  and  intensely  evangelical.  Heretofore,  perhaps,  both 
parties  had  preferred  to  expatiate  over  that  border-land 
which  skirts  the  legitimate  field  of  sermonizing:,  in  order 
to  find  topics  of  intellectual  entertainment.  But  now  a 
meaning  and  power  are  discovered,  in  the  few  and  old 
truths  of  Scripture,  which  the  whole  varied,  vivid  universe 
of  science,  literature,  and  art  cannot  furnish. 

How  we  freely  concede,  that  the  work  of  the  Spirit  is 
needed,  in  both  preacher  and  hearer,  in  order  that  this  in¬ 
terest  in  distiuctivelv  evangelical  subjects  mav  reach  its 
highest  form,  and  were  the  work  of  the  Spirit  our  theme, 
we  would  insist  upon  this  great  truth.  But  at  this  time 
we  are  treating  of  human  discipline,  and  speaking  of 
those  intellectual  methods  that  are  best  adapted  to  favor 
the  operation  of  the  truth  and  the  Spirit  of  God.  And, 
speaking  in  this  connection,  we  are  bold  in  affirming  that 
a  learned  and  thorough  theological  discipline  contributes 
to  this  simplicity  in  the  subjects,  and  to  this  directness  in 
the  exhibition  of  them.  Learning  does  make  us  plain  and 
powerful  teachers.  A  shallow'  education,  and  a  lively, 
but  illogical  mind,  cannot  find  the  elements  of  power  in 
the  doctrines  of  Jesus  and  the  resurrection.  Such  are 


CLEEICAL  EDUCATION. 


373 


compelled,  by  their  undue  discursiveness,  and  their  lack 
of  thoughtfulness,  to  seek  pulpit  effect  in  a  multitude  of 
topics,  and  in  novelty  of  themes. 

Again,  in  the  second  place,  the  existing,  and  the  com¬ 
ing  conflict  with  educated  skepticism,  calls  for  a  ministry 
that  has  been  made  learned,  by  the  discipline  of  institu¬ 
tions  and  curriculums.  Modern  infidelity  assumes  a 
greater  variety  of  forms  than  the  ancient,  although  its 
essential  character  remains  the  same.  We  should  expect 
this  would  be  the  case  in  an  age  which,  as  wTe  have  already 
observed,  is  inclined  to  variety  rather  than  to  unity,  in  all 
its  manifestations.  The  infidelity  which  the  ministry  lias 
to  combat  is,  as  usual,  protean  ;  and  when  refuted  in  one 
shape,  instantaneously  reappears  in  another.  One  of  its 
most  specious  forms,  and  the  only  one  we  have  time  to 
notice,  springs  out  of  the  connection  of  natural  religion 
with  revealed.  It  involves  the  relation  of  Ethics  to  Chris¬ 
tianity.  In  our  country,  in  particular,  this  form  of  infi¬ 
delity  associates  itself,  parasitically,  with  the  reformation 
of  society,  and  thereby  becomes  doubly  dangerous  to  the 
Christian  church,  which  ever  takes  a  deep  interest  in  the 
removal  of  social  evils.  That  the  reconstruction  of  soci¬ 
ety  is  made  to  supersede  the  regeneration  of  the  individ¬ 
ual  is  not  the  wfliole,  or  the  worst.  Reform  is  not  merely 
divorced  from  evangelical  Christianity,  but  is  at  enmity 
with  it.  A  class  of  minds  are  loudly  proclaiming  the 
truths  of  ethics  and  natural  religion,  from  beneath  the 
sounding-board  of  Reform,  for  whom  the  doctrine  of  the 
cross  is  a  most  hateful  offence,  and  whose  temper  towards 
those  peculiar  truths  which  are  the  life  and  life-blood  of 
the  Christian  Religion,  is  marked  by  a  malignity,  and  a 
virulence,  which  finds  its  parallel  only  in  the  first,  and 
original  “  generation  of  vipers.” 

^Nothing  but  learning  in  the  clergy  can  overmaster  this 


374 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


error.  Nothing  but  broad  scholarship,  profound  insight, 
and  power  of  distinct  statement  can  exhibit  the  true  func¬ 
tions  of  both  Ethics  and  the  Gospel,  and  carry  the  public 
mind  against  this  half -understanding  of  the  enemy  of 
Christianity,  and  his  covert  attack.  For  the  opponent  of 
the  ministry,  and  the  gospel,  now  plants  himself  upon 
Ethics,  and  not  upon  mere,  sheer,  sensual  infidelity.  He 
professes  a  moral  end  and  aim,  and  his  own  character,  in 
most  instances,  is  moral  and  proud.  He  professes  to  call 
men  back,  from  a  mysterious  and  complicated  religion,  to 
the  few  first  principles  of  justice,  and  virtue,  and  benevo¬ 
lence.  He  derives  no  little  authority  and  influence,  be¬ 
fore  the  judgment  and  conscience  of  men,  because  he 
advocates  the  claims  of  the  great  and  noble  department 
of  moral  philosophy.  Hence  the  clergyman,  in  this  age 
more  than  in  any  other,  must  be  able  to  draw  the  line 
between  morality  and  religion,  and  especially  to  make  men 
see  what  all  history  teaches,  that  there  is  no  self-realizing 
power  in  moralism  ;  that  all  this  Ethics  must  follow  in 
the  rear  of  evangelical  Christianity,  in  order  to  be  opera¬ 
tive  among  mankind.  Men  need  life ,  renovating  and 
sanctifying  life  from  God  ;  and  not  merely  light  from 
nature  and  reason,  or  even  from  revelation  ;  for  the  Bible 
itself  is  powerless  without  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  truths 
of  ethics  and  natural  religion  can  become  the  ruling  prin¬ 
ciples  of  individual  and  social  life,  only  in  case  the  indi¬ 
vidual  and  society  come  under  the  power  of  revealed  reli¬ 
gion.  Ethical  justice,  and  ethical  truth,  and  ethical 
benevolence,  cannot  prevail  on  the  earth,  except  as  evan¬ 
gelical  faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  renovate  human  nature 
in  its  fountains.  Only  through  the  vitality  and  regenera¬ 
tion  of  Christianity  can  the  cold,  clear  reason  of  ethics  be 
transmuted  into  feeling,  and  be  realized  among  mankind. 
Only  the  renewed  soul  can  actually  obey  the  hard  and 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


375 


high  law.  Theorists  are  setting  the  Christian  religion 
upon  the  same  level  with  that  of  Confucius,  because  the 
Chinese  sage  taught  the  “golden  rule.”  Suppose  it  to  be 
true  (which,  however,  we  deny)  that  Confucius  did  teach 
the  golden  rule  as  clearly  and  as  fully  as  Christ  taught  it 
in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  would  this  make  Confucius 
equal  to  Jesus  Christ?  It  would,  provided  that  Christ 
did  no  more  than  merely  teach  tire  rule.  But  he  does  far 
more  than  this.  lie  imparts  a  disposition  to  obey  the  rule. 
This  Confucius  never  did  while  upon  earth,  and  has  never 
done  since  he  left  it.  It  is  easy  enough  to  point  to  the 
north  star — any  child  can  do  this.  But  to  carry  a  human 
being  to  the  north  star  is  beyond  the  power  of  man.  When 
Christ  said  to  the  paralytic:  “Arise,  take  up  thy  bed  and 
walk,”  lie  empowered  him  to  the  act.  lie  imparted  a  vital 
force  that  enabled  the  patient  to  do  what  he  was  com¬ 
manded  to  do.  But  when  these  natural  religions  of  the 
globe,  for  which  an  equality  with  Christianity  is  claimed, 
say  to  the  moral  paralytic :  “  Ho  right,”  “  Be  perfect,” 
they  bestow  no  spiritual  power  along  with  the  command, 
and  hence  accomplish  nothing. 

It  is  surprising  to  see  how  this  great  difference  between 
Christianity  and  the  natural  religions  of  the  globe  is  over- 
looked  in  the  contest  now  going  on  between  naturalism 
and  supernaturalism.  The  utmost  that  Confucius,  Sakya- 
muni,  and  Socrates  can  do  is  to  give  good  advice.  They  can¬ 
not  incline  and  enable  men  to  obey  it.  Socrates  confesses 
this  with  sadness.  It  is  the  burden  and  grief  of  his  soul 
that  men  will  not  hear,  and  that  he  has  no  power  to  move 
their  hearts.  But  Jesus  Christ  possesses  this  marvellous 
power.  He  can  not  only  say  to  men :  “  Whatsoever  ye 
would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them,” 
but  he  can  actually  dispose  them  to  do  it.  Men  for  centu¬ 
ries,  of  all  grades  of  civilization  and  culture,  have  come 


376 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


under  the  power  of  the  gospel,  and  have  found  in  them¬ 
selves  a  new  heart.  This  is  not  theory,  but  fact.  That 
Christianity  possesses  the  wonderful’  power  of  originating 
character,  and  spiritually  transforming  men,  is  as  certain 
as  that  magnetism  affects  iron.  It  is  demonstrable  by 
actual  experiment  and  observation.  St.  Paul,  speaking 
of  the  superiority  of  the  gospel  over  the  moral  law,  re¬ 
marks  that,  “  if  there  had  been  a  law  given  which  could 
have  given  life ,  verily,  righteousness  should  have  been  by 
the  law.”  Now  this  imparting  of  moral  life  is  precisely 
what  no  religion  but  the  Christian  is  competent  to.  If 
the  human  heart  could  have  been  inclined  and  persuaded 
to  practise  the  golden  rule  by  the  mere  teaching  of  the 
rule,  by  Confucius  or  any  other  mere  teacher,  there  would 
be  some  color  of  reason  for  the  assertion  that  Confucius 
and  Christ  are  equals.  But  the  human  heart  remains  the 
same  selfish  and  self-seeking  thing;  from  generation  to  gene- 
ration,  until  the  Christian  herald  proclaims  the  religion  of 
that  redeeming  God  who  says :  “  A  new  heart  will  I  give 
you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within  you  ;  and  I  will 
take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give 
you  an  heart  of  flesh.” 

The  infidelity  of  moralism,  then,  so  covert  and  so  spe¬ 
cious,  calls  loudly  for  an  evangelical  ministry  that  knows 
exactly  the  difference  between  the  law  and  the  gospel ; 
that  can  meet  the  opposer  upon  his  own  ground,  and 
instead  of  vilifying  ethics,  and  natural  reason,  and  reli¬ 
gion,  can  apply  their  truths  and  principles  so  hotly  and 
terribly  to  the  human  soul  at  variayice  with  them ,  that 
they  shall  be  a  schoolmaster  to  lead  it  to  Christianity. 
“  Tell  me,  ye  that  desire  to  be  under  the  law,  do  ye  not 
hear  the  law  ?  The  law  is  not  of  faith,”  it  stands  in  no 
relation  to  mercy,  “  but  the  man  that  doeth  them  shall  live 
by  them.”  And  the  contrary  follows  inevitably  :  “  The 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


377 


man  that  doeth  them  not,  shall  die  by  them.”  It  is 
because  mankind  have  not  obeyed  the  principles  of  natu¬ 
ral  religion,  and  are  under  a  curse  and  a  bondage  therefor, 
that  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  revealed  religion  are  needed  ; 
and  he  who  in  this  age,  or  any  other,  preaches  the  truths 
of  natural  reason  and  conscience,  and  there  stops,  preaches 
the  eternal  and  inevitable  damnation  of  the  human  soul. 
He  may  not  know  what  he  is  doing.  He  may  announce 
the  ideas  of  ethics  and  natural  religion,  as  evidence  that 
human  nature  is  upright,  and  needs  no  redemption,  forget¬ 
ting  that  a  Plato,  a  Plutarch,  and  a  Cicero,  found  in  the 
fact  that  they  are  in  man’s  reason  but  not  obeyed  and 
realized  in  man’s  will,  the  most  convincing  evidence  that 
humanity  is  at  schism  with  itself,  and  therefore  depraved 
and  fallen,  while  they  knew  no  mode  of  deliverance.  lie 
may  expand  these  old  and  obvious  doctrines  of  ethical 
morality,  as  something  new  and  original  with  himself,  for- 
getting  that  a  single  dialogue  like  the  Pkceclo,  or  a  single 
tract  like  the  De  Natura  Deorum ,  contains  more  of  the 
pure  and  dense  reason  of  the  finite  mind  than  he  lias  been 
able  to  flatten  out  into  many  volumes  of  essays  and  so- 
called  sermons.  lie  may  suppose  in  all  this,  that  he  is 
dispensing  with  the  necessity  of  revelation,  and  taking  the 
most  effectual  method  to  destrov  its  influence  among  man- 
kind.  But  the  well-disciplined  Christian  preacher  can 
take  all  this  asseveration  respecting  the  immutability  of 
ethical  distinctions,  and  all  this  emphatic  assertion  of  the 
sacredness  and  worth  of  justice  and  truth  and  benevolence 
and  all  the  forms  of  virtue,  and  from  it  deduce  man’s 
perishing  need  of  God’s  mercy  and  redemption.  For 
where  is  the  conformity  to  all  these  statutes  and  command¬ 
ments  ?  Who  realizes  these  truths  of  natural  conscience 
in  his  daily  life  ?  Who  will  not  be  found  guilty  before 
the  bar  of  natural  religion,  that  is,  the  bar  of  his  own  con- 


378 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


science  ?  Who  will  not  need  that  atonement  for  failure  to 
live  up  even  to  the  light  of  nature  which  is  the  key  to 
that  sacrificial  system  which  makes  a  part  of  all  the  more 
thoughtful  and  respectable  religions  of  paganism '? 

The  connection  between  natural  and  revealed  religion 
is  the  point  where  the  most  dangerous  infidelity  of  the 
time  takes  its  stand ;  and  the  ministry  needs,  more  than 
ever,  a  profound  and  clear  understanding  of  the  distinc¬ 
tive  character  and  relations  of  each,  in  order  to  meet  the 
adroit  attacks  of  enemies,  to  relieve  the  sincere  doubts  of 
inquiring  minds,  and  more  than  all,  to  make  the  law,  in 
all  its  forms,  tributary  to  the  gospel  of  Christ.  But  this 
power  rests  upon  learning;  upon  a  profound  acquaintance 
with  what  that  learned  Puritan,  Theophilus  Gale,  denom¬ 
inates,  “  the  wisdom  of  the  Gentiles,”  and  a  yet  more  pro¬ 
found  acquaintance  with  the  wisdom  of  the  Scriptures. 
Here  is  the  whole  broad  field  of  human  reason  and  divine 
revelation  to  be  traversed,  and  nothing  but  that  thorough 
understanding  of  their  true  meaning  and  mutual  rela- 

o  o 

tions,  which  characterized  both  the  conforming  and  the 
non-conforming  divines  of  England  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  will  prepare  the  ministry  of  the  present,  and  the 
coming  age,  to  meet  the  skepticism  present  and  to  come. 
The  English  deism  of  that  century  and  that  age  was 
learned,  was  able,  was  subtle.  It  contained  all  shades, 
from  the  lofty  and  virtuous  deism  of  Lord  Herbert  of  ♦ 
Cherbury,  to  the  low  and  sensual  deism  of  Mandeville. 
But  it  was  thoroughly  met  by  the  Christian  ministry  of 
that  century,  because  the  truths  of  natural  religion  itself 
were  more  philosophically  and  correctly  apprehended  by 
the  defenders  of  revelation,  than  they  were  by  its  oppo¬ 
nents.  The  Deist  found  that  the  Christian  preacher  was 
at  home  in  the  Pagan  as  well  as  in  the  Christian  theology ; 
and,  before  the  controversy  was  over,  learned  that  by  fai 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


379 


the  justest  estimate  of  what  the  uninspired  human  mind 
is  capable  of  doing,  and  of  what  it  is  incapable,  is  formed 
by  the  mind  that  occupies  the  higher  point  of  view  afforded 
by  a  supernatural  revelation.  The  Deist  discovered  that 
John  ITowe  had  read  Plato,  and  that  Bishop  Stillingfleel 
was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,  and  that 
both  alike,  while  the  farthest  possible  from  disparaging 
the  just  dues-'Qf  reason  and  conscience,  were  able,  con¬ 
vincingly,  to  show  the  powerlessness  of  both,  in  reference 
to  the  two  great  needs  of  human  nature,  the  forgiveness 
of  sins  and  the  sanctification  of  the  soul ;  in  reference, 
not  to  a  mere  illumination  that  like  moonlight  in  nature 
warms  nothing  and  stirs  nothing,  but  to  a  deep  central 
renovation  and  restoration  to  holiness  and  paradise,  of  a 
race  that,  for  six  thousand  years,  lias  had  full  opportunity 
to  try  the  recuperative  virtues  supposed  to  inhere  in  the 
uninspired  human  mind  and  the  unrenewed  human  will. 

We  have,  then,  these  two  general  reasons  why  the  Church 
should  address  itself  to  the  work  of  training  a  ministry  : 
first,  that  the  ministry  may  be  sufficiently  numerous  to 
supply  the  increasing  demands  for  public  religious 
teachers  ;  and,  secondly,  that  the  ministry  may  be  suffi¬ 
ciently  disciplined,  to  exhibit  the  few  and  simple  doc¬ 
trines  of  Christianity  in  a  plain,  fresh,  and  powerful 
manner  to  Tie  general  understanding,  and  sufficiently 
learned  to  thwart  the  present  attempt  of  infidelity  to  sub¬ 
stitute  natural  for  revealed  religion. 

There  are  other  fundamental  reasons  for  this  procedure 

that  might  be  urged,  but  we  prefer  to  seize  upon  two 

strong  points,  and  rest  the  plea  upon  them  alone.  The  two 

considerations  of  number  and  of  power  in  the  ministry  are 

sufficient  to  evince  the  duty  of  the  church  in  respect  to 

clerical  education.  We  are  the  more  ready  to  rest  the  case 

«/ 

upon  these  two  points,  because  they  are  both  unusually 


380 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


practical,  at  this  juncture.  The  opening  of  new  nations 
to  Christianity  is  destined  to  make  a  great  demand  for 
preachers  of  the  Word  during  the  next  century.  The 
indications  now  are  that  the  unchristianized  world  is  sim¬ 
ultaneously  waking  up  to  a  sense  of  its  spiritual  wants,  and 
being  thrown  open  to  Christian  enterprise.  The  heathen 
are  ready  and  waiting  to  hear  the  living  Word  from  the 
living  tongue  and  eye.  While,  therefore,  missionary 
schools  and  seminaries  cannot  safely  be  neglected,  and 
will  not  be,  it  is  becoming  more  evident  every  day  that 
the  number  of  preachers  must  be  very  greatly  increased, 
so  that,  as  in  the  apostolic  age,  Christianity  may  run  like 
sacred  fire  over  large  spaces  in  short  time.  It  is  by 
preaching  tours  and  missionary  journeys,  like  those  of  the 
apostolic  age,  taking  their  start  from  the  missionary  sta¬ 
tion,  that  the  world  is  to  be  evangelized.  Companies  and 
bands  of  heralds,  penetrating  in  every  direction,  and  carry¬ 
ing  the  truth  to  every  hamlet  and  heart,  will  speedily  be 
needed,  if  the  church  would  see  the  millions  who  are  now 
coming  under  the  influences  of  civilization,  also  coming 

under  the  influences  of  Christian itv. 

«/ 

And,  certainly,  the  other  consideration  which  we  have 
urged,  viz.,  the  fresh,  vigorous  power  of  the  clergy,  appeals 
with  equal  force  to  our  minds,  when  we  consider  the  pre¬ 
vailing  type  of  intellectual  culture.  In  speaking  of  cleri¬ 
cal  learning,  we  have  directed  attention  more  to  the 
material,  than  to  the  formal  side  of  the  subject,  because 
the  intellectual  tendency  of  the  age  is  unduly  to  the  form. 
Art  is  outrunning  science.  Rhetoric  is  destroying  logic, 
as  in  some  previous  ages  logic  destroyed  rhetoric.  Style, 
instead  of  being  the  pure  and  austerely  beautiful  embodi¬ 
ment  of  an  idea  and  a  truth  and  a  logic  that  is  greater  and 
grander  than  itself,  exists  too  much  by  itself,  and  for  itself. 
There  is  not  enough  of  aromment  in  the  sermon.  Men  are 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


381 


not  sufficiently  reasoned  with  out  of  the  Scriptures. 
Preaching  is  too  often  a  play,  and  a  display.  It  is  not 
often  enough  a  conflict  of  mind  with  mind,  and  a  battle 
of  the  understanding  of  the  preacher  with  that  of  the 
hearer.  For  the  pulpit,  like  God,  has  a  controversy  with 
human  nature.  Hence  the  need  and  worth  of  scientific 
discipline.  For  this  species  of  power  springs  from  the 
rigor  of  a  professional  course ;  is  drawn  from  the  nether 
fountains  of  philosophical  and  theological  science.  He 
who  expects  that  mighty  reasoners  and  men  of  command¬ 
ing  power  will  be  raised  up  without  the  discipline  of 
institutions,  and  the  learning  of  libraries,  expects  that  the 
perturbations  of  the  planets  will  be  calculated  without 
mathematics,  and  that  the  constellations  of  the  skies  will 
be  mapped  without  observatories.  Showy  men,  striking 
men,  may  be  formed  without  the  school  or  curriculum ; 
but  strong  men  cannot  be. 

The  great  majority  of  clergymen  have  received  through 
the  Church  an  amount  and  kind  of  aid  that  decided  their 
profession  for  them,  and  their  own  position  within  it. 
Subtract  this  ecclesiastical  agency  and  influence,  and  you 
subtract  in  an  untold  manner  from  the  sum  total  of  the 
clerical  agencies  and  influences  now  at  work  in  society.  If 
this  is  true  of  the  past,  it  will  hold  true  with  emphasis  of 
the  future.  The  time  is  coming,  and  now  is,  when  the 
interests  of  the  church  and  of  Christianity  will  require  a 
far  broader  foundation,  and  a  much  ampler  apparatus  for 
clerical  education  than  now  exists.  As  our  own  country 
fills  up  with  population,  wealth,  and  human  knowledge, 
and  as  the  globe  wheels  up  more  and  more  of  its  dark 
sides  to  the  eye  of  the  philanthropist  and  the  Christian, 
there  will  be  needed  a  permanence  and  an  affluence  in 
educational  facilities,  such  as  exists  in  the  church  estab¬ 
lishments  of  the  Old  World.  Suppose  that  all  those  foun- 


382 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


dations,  and  fellowships,  and  scholarships — all  those  edi¬ 
fices,  and  libraries,  and  museums,  and  faculties,  and  courses 
of  instruction,  which  are  radiating  an  influence  from  gen¬ 
eration  after  generation  of  students — could  instantane¬ 
ously  be  transferred  to  the  care  and  use  of  a  church  dis- 

i / 

connected  from  the  state,  and  supported  upon  the  volun¬ 
tary  system,  what  a  stream  of  fresh  and  energetic  life 
would  be  poured  through  these  veins  and  arteries,  now 
clogged  and  in  danger  of  ossification  !  How  much  more 
evenly  and  impartially  would  the  revenues  be  distributed, 
and  how  much  more  advantageously  would  the  power 
of  this  great  educational  system  and  apparatus  be  ap¬ 
plied  ! 

The  Church,  in  this  country,  has  now  solved  a  problem, 
which,  since  the  days  of  Constantine,  had  been  deemed 
insoluble.  It  has  convincingly  proved,  that,  Christian  in¬ 
stitutions  not  only  do  not  need  the  support  of  the  state, 
but  thrive  best,  when  left  to  the  spontaneous  and  free 
support  of  that  individual  Christian  heart  and  mind  which 
wants  them  and  loves  them.  The  doctrine  of  a  self-sup¬ 
porting  church,  now,  has  less  of  doubt  and  difficulty  over¬ 
hanging  it,  than  the  doctrine  of  a  self-governing  state. 
We  think,  and  say,  that  the  United  States  of  America 
have  convincingly  proved,  that  a  republic  is  not  merely  an 
ideal,  hut  also  a  realizable  form  of  government.  We  may 
be  vet  more  confident,  that  the  church  of  Christ  in  this 
country  has  irrefragably  evinced  the  inherent  and  per¬ 
sistent  power  of  vital  Christianity  to  organize  its  own  sim¬ 
ple  forms,  and  supply  its  own  few  outward  wants.  Visi¬ 
ble  churches  die  out  of  localities,  far  less  often  under  the 
Voluntary  System  than  under  the  Establishment.  Go 
among  the  hills,  where  a  sparse  population  wrings  a  bare 
livelihood  from  the  thin  and  sterile  soil,  and  you  find  a 
“  feeble  church,”  as  it  is  called,  but  a  church  that  never 


CLERICAL  EDUCATION. 


383 


ceases  to  be  among  the  hills,  because  it  draws  what  life  it 
has  from  free-will,  and  not  from  ancestral  revenues.  But 
how  many  a  church,  whose  material,  moneyed  foundation 
dates  back  to  the  Plantagenets  and  the  Tudors,  has  dis¬ 
appeared  from  the  sum  of  national  life  and  vital  influ¬ 
ences,  and  exists,  now,  only  as  an  investment  in  the  funds, 
or  the  national  debt,  because  the  invisible  church,  in  the 
outset,  was  not  laden  with  its  proper  responsibility,  and 
as  a  penalty,  in  the  end,  ceased  to  exist  altogether  as  a 
moral  force  in  the  nation. 

It,  therefore,  now  remains  for  the  Church  to  complete 
what  has  been  so  well  begun  ;  to  arm  this  voluntary  sys¬ 
tem  with  the  powers  and  resources  of  an  establishment ; 
to  fill  up  its  treasuries,  that  it  may  dispense  with  a  liberal 
hand ;  to  endow  its  institutions,  that  it  may  promote  its 
own  growth  and  prosperity.  For,  in  this  instance,  it  is 
not  one  party  who  gives,  and  another  who  receives  and 
disburses.  It  is  the  church,  self-governing,  self-support¬ 
ing,  self-extending.  It  is  a  true  evolution  from  centre  to 
circumference,  and  back,  by  a  reflex  influence,  from  the 
periphery  to  the  radiating  point.  There  is  no  danger, 
therefore,  that  revenues  will  become  too  large,  and  the 
organization  too  complicated  and  massive ;  for  the  giver 
is  also  the  treasurer  and  the  almoner,  and  will  know 

y 

when  to  stop.  There  is  no  danger  of  maladministration  ; 
for  they  who  administer,  and  they  who  endow,  are  both 
of  one,  and  at  one;  of  one  body,  and  at  one  object. 


Date  Due 

fjOT-  '-  ' 

SB®**1 

1  JL  i 

O')  !& 

1  t 

PRINTED 

IN  U.  S.  A. 

